She fell asleep by the window and for this I will most likely always remember her or something about her. Her lips partly open, lids pressing down, the light and clouds slide-screening across her face and of course-drool. I remember thinking at the time, “how can she sleep?” I thought about some old movie I saw with an indian sleeping in front of a fire and some white guy holding his hand over the indian's face (without touching) and the indian wakes up some how sensing a disturbance in the force. Well I am not an indian but I sure as shit would wake up. So how could she sleep amongst all this change?
Tonight: I had a perfect night out at the Legion all by myself. I mean, there were other people there but by now they know I don’t want to hit on them or hit them, I just want to sit there and look out the window. The perfect moment came when they played two Radiohead songs back to back. “Everything in its Right Place,” and “National Anthem.”
I keep thinking of my bills and of course I know they aren’t much. I mean, a few thousand here and there meagerly trying to strangle me in the middle of the night, but some how, some way I know this isn’t real. I take refuge when I look out into the night sky and think, “what the fuck are we?” and I mean this in the whole concept of the solar system, the galaxy and universe. “how come us... our problems must seem stupid... is this insane... is this a one and one trillion-trillion chance... don’t worry about the small stuff because the facts the numbers coming in say that everything about you walking-talking watching movies by German directors, arguing, kissing, loving and masturbating at night is fucking impossible. Drive your car off a cliff...your invincible!”
And I feel better, in a non-judging way.
Once she laid down beside me and in the middle of the night or just getting home I can’t remember at this time in the juncture, but she reached into my pants trying to wake me for love. Only if she would’ve put her hand in font of the fire/ in front of my face.
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