after not writing for so long it gets harder to write because of fear of being banal. but here. this is banal. not deep. My hands are sweating on the keyboard. 35 degrees. palms sticking to the powerbook. smudges. packed six plastic bags, two backpacks, and one suitcase. gonna order a taxi soon. in about 5 min. attachment is also an issue. or anticipation. or waiting. but there is nothing to wait for cause everything is already happening. always. in this eternal present.
off we go into the wild blue yonder.
that was one of the first songs i heard when i immigrated to America. Las Vegas. And Iron Eagle and Top Gun and the cold war. And K-mart hamburgers and 7-eleven slurpies and now-and-laters and trying to do the helicopter on a piece of cardboard and an American girl named Candy who loved Duran Duran and wanted to take me to an abandoned house in the vegas desert to show me something called French kissing but I told her I loved Jesus and I can't do that kind of thing. yeah . . .. . life happens!