“Would North be true — for all my days remaining?”

Maybe he’s right — maybe I am the only person on earth where ten is too much. So somewhere between zero and ten, then? Unfortunately, the canvas is you.

Stars seem to lose their place.

Jesus, when did I forget how to cry? The third heartbreaking disaster? Or the fourth, the fifth? I’m really not sure how it’s come to this, but it’s still so much better than it was. Improbably, after all that looking, it seems like I find it again; or some more worn, road weary, seasoned version of it. Ends up my old self was here all along, hiding in plain sight. Kind of a mind fuck, that one.

“Geez, dummy — what took you so long?” Maron. That guy kills me sometimes.

I went on an extended explanation of how Taylor and I have this very deep, intimate relationship, where she reads my mind and then writes songs, somehow ten years ago, that I listen to over and over again so they can explain to me exactly how I feel. That’s a lot of weight to put on a pop song, but, miraculously, somehow they hold up.

Attraction/Avoidance is definitely the name of the game with music. Every play through now risks shortening the span until I grow sick of it, and it loses its power. A kind deity [no, fucking autocorrect, not ‘a kind dirty’] … A kind deity would have spared us the hedonic treadmill. I’m mean — seriously? As if it isn’t hard enough already?

I don’t even know which way is North now, but it’s not like I had the slightest fucking clue this summer, or last January, or the summer before, or the January before, either. Been navigating in loops for a long time now. When you can’t keep time by the stars, hard to say how long. Stupid girl, I should’ve known. Ah well… ‘If being wrong’s a crime then I need help here…’ You know the rest. What? You don’t? Oh my god — like different universes.

I liked the fake beat poetry one. Hypnotizing to write, sitting just here in this same spot at the same time yesterday. Could’ve never pictured myself typing these out of glass, so never say never. What was the line about how empowering it is to do something you’d thought was impossible, even a small thing? Damn.

I think I love the dark angel bit. That one sat in the hopper for a while, as even though I’ve danced around the public/private line more than just about anyone I know, when it comes to taking (well earned) shots at religion, I still tend to hold back. Whatevs. “You’ll pay for this in time.”

And back to back Sting and Police callouts makes me feel like the champion of… something. I dunno why. If you can build a culture out of sticks and twine,,,, how’d that go? Oh man, I’m even having trouble quoting myself now.

It’s too late for this. Been too intense of a day, again. When I let myself start, I swore I would hold it until morning; check it for leaks by the light of dawn (or 2:30am, whichever comes first). But hell — that’s no fun. Where’s the thrill in that? It’s not like every single word and suggestion and stray, momentary thought here will outlive me for a thousand years.

Except that, of course, it’s exactly that. That’s the fun. A lot less harmful than drinking myself to sleep. Which, for the record, I’ve never done; not even once. Have I mentioned I’m like the boringest, most straight edge person you’ve met? (Well, aside from those vegans.) Caffeine and sugar and blogging, those are my vices. The occasional binge on a video game. Pretty tame for a Thursday night. Like a burning train to noplace.

[Good job staying away from the line that would be just way, way too close to the bone. Not too close is always better than too close.][Also, I checked, but only twice. Defenses fail in the late evening. Wanted to more than that.]

I considered trying for the seven in twenty-four, but it would have broke my brain even harder, or opened up cracks for more deadly words to slip out. Plus, I had to mow. But I’m counting this as 4-in-24, which is still a new record by any reckoning. Yeah, Reckoning. That was another good album. Nothing as wrenching as The Soul Cages, but love can be two things

“That’s it; we’re out of time. We’ll try and do better the next time.”

‘Night.

“Under the skies of Fall; North-Northwest the stones of Pharaoh.”/