scrawls.

scrawls

still cheaper than therapy*

24.10.10

I wake up to the first Noble Truth and do not have to search for its origin. Compliments come in many forms, in many lessons, i fizz with the sum of them. I walk the dog and find fifty forints on the foundation wall of the building across the street. I walk the dog through the park, yellow leaves on the wet green grass, trees red against the sun, a mallard at the pond, a male, with his shiny head and a pure white breast. Unusual. I have a pair of soft-boiled eggs, as one should, using both sides of a little egg spoon and a shot glass for an egg cup. I hate that shot glass. I want to throw it away, throw it on the ground four stories below and watch it shatter, i want the picture to die, i want the little bit of gold around the rim to become dust, i see it and it is like peeling an unfinished scab, still. I keep it, i keep it safe, if it broke i would dissolve like rain, because that's my scab, and it's important. In the morning i have to myself i run the dishwasher, i run the laundry, i stack wine-glasses in the dishwasher and hope for the best. Those little IKEA cups we used for the rum and cokes. I used every fork in my house, last night, last night.

Labels: house, random

scrawled @ 21:25