July 9th, 2007
Untitled
Clean. I will clear my mind. Fifty-six minutes from Fujisawa to Shinjuku, shonan to metropolis, and me alone with the task to set a mind of worries and welts, a mind of “tomorrow”, and “What didn’t I do today?”. For some reason I think of Pittsburgh and the 38A from Oakland to Swissvale. All the moments spent on dark and silent trips through Wilkinsburg. The shakes and the turns, shambles of mass transit from a driver deep in tough about serious things I would at a glance deem, “petty.”
But yes a train, trying to write as small as possible, listening to the delayed, slovenly beats of RITM: lilting over piano, washing over the keys, on an ocean past and a sea far away that perhaps I once dreamt of.
No no no,m this is not sun or fatigue or lust or a wanting, no this is just a rant, no an expression, a bit of sunlight breaking through the clouds. A small bit of blinding inspiration that has shaken free of the gloomy mental cage in which I live.
