sleeping with the window open...

i still haven't plugged in my clock. it's buried in my room somewhere. under a pile of clothes, or papers, or art supplies. you look for one thing, you dump out a box to find it, and before you know it everything is everywhere. unpacking. bit by bit. i sleep well here. with the window open. bundled up, it's still pretty cold at night. fresh air. wind. koochie socks, pajama pants, a hoody, and a big comforter. i'm having the most vivid dreams each night. the coffee shop is finally open every day. no more wandering around trying to figure out where to get my hit each morning.

i went for a run on the beach yesterday. i hadn't ran for that long in a while. i didn't get tired nearly as quick as i usually do. it was raining. the sky was all cloud. cold. not another soul in sight.

"even when the skies were grey / you would rub me on my back and say baby it'll be okay..."

that method man/mary j. song just popped into my head out of nowhere.

the lake was rough. i ran along the water's edge, dodging the waves and logs and animal skulls....