its so hard to go into the city

2003-01-16, 8:55 p.m.

when you hear the first of the rise, a thin film of warmth build on your skin. and the muscles, they are in a tropical state of mind, dreaming of the snowy mountains, or maybe a foggy night in the laguna. the palms of your hands, they feel like they have just departed from smoothness of anothers body, but the heat remains. you want it to be cold out, to be raining so hard that the shingles crumble and the soil is saturated, so wet that you forget the summer time.

but all the reactions come easy. the eyes close, the fingers are serpentine, most of all, this mind is flowing into a never ending urge to flood the entire earth. you want. you see it all before the moon peaks in the sky.

set aside time, telling someone something deep. insight, overriding your fears of saying something that will leave you in an aslyum.

listen when there is nothing to be heard, even in your dark car, and the cd player just one second from blazing yo la tengo.