When I was in college my dad would never come home after 9pm or so. One Saturday night it's 9:30 and he's nowhere and this is before cell phones so I call the golf course where he works and there's nothing. Eventually one of his friends rings me up to tell me my dad has been arrested but everything is fine. There's a buddy he sells golf balls to and he's a lawyer just show up at the jail tomorrow to pick him up. So I have this bomb that goes off in my head if I get a call from my dad too late in the evening. And these days he calls me late just to tell me stories he forgot to relay about his day at the cancer clinic. Tonight, it was about a lady that takes requests and sings to patients and he reenacted it with his gravelly screechy voice how she sang "Besame Mucho" but he was so happy and I wasn't scared for a bit.
Do you remember The Abbey? Is that? I'm pretty sure it was one of those places where I tried to kiss you. I heard the benches are gone and there's pool tables now and the clacking of the balls sing the song of selling out. I remember the way the light would come in super harsh through the big windows. Squinting buzzed on a Tucher wanting so much something that wouldn't be given.
Sometimes the best thing for relationships are noise canceling headphones.
Sometimes I wish when this crazy bitch said "Please stop talking to me I just want to end this conversation" she actually meant it instead of me realizing oh shit here comes another chemo fueled batshit crazy argument where she takes everything driving her mad and shits it all over me via her pie hole.
Welp. I've kinda kicked the streak in the nuts at this point. I'll blame it on construction the lady's chemo and late nights trying to choke the ever loving shit out of insomnia lately. Cheers.
I thought maybe the vaccine would be having its way with me today but no it's just my fault I'm still writing not so great poems. But. Today my kid said he figured he was so comfortable taking his writing exam because all the time he spends writing up dossiers on horror game characters (instead of paying attention to class) transferred, skill-wise to his writing exam efforts. I told him I was so proud and I fucking loved him and he told me he fucking loved me too. And that's all I can fucking ask for.
Got my second COVID shot today and the girl who checked me in said she loved my shirt but then she asked me what it even meant and I wondered if she was just checking me out.
On my morning walk a little cloud of dragonflies followed me for a bit. It was cool.
It's that day don't believe anything. Except one time a girl I really cared for I wish she'd told me she loved me on April Fool's because fuck it what's a fool if not the best kind of dreamer.
My aunt at the Best Buy calling asking me what she should buy not knowing what's even wrong. It's like she knew I had the day off and might actually pull off a nap in the middle of the day. Can you imagine? Sleeping soundly in the middle of the day while the construction people clip and chip at old tiles that drag and clank. I almost spent the whole day in sandals. Fuck.