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rejectomorphIt seems like all I want to do when awake anymore is wander in the labyrinth of my memory and the fantasies it generates from old, half-forgotten fragments of life. I came across a photo of Pasadena in the 1950s with a steam locomotive heading down a spur line that ran past one of my old stomping grounds, and the place transformed in my mind to a far more elaborate thing than it really was, and my days there filled with things that never happened but would have had I had means for generating them. Before I knew it I had hung out for hours with imaginary friends I'd never had, and an entire evening had vanished into a fantastical afternoon. If I were concerned with such things as sanity I'd fear I was losing mine, but the truth is I'm not concerned, I probably am losing it, and I'd just as soon, since reality has little to offer beyond physical deterioration and wretched weather.
So, Wednesday. Vanished beyond recall. No big loss, no doubt. I think I might have remembered to check the mail, but if so I don't think there was any. At least there's nothing new sitting on the table where I put fresh mail when I get it. I do have the nagging feeling there was something else I was supposed to do but didn't, but damned if I can be sure. Maybe no catastrophe will ensue. If it does, then I can always use it as an excuse to slip farther into delusion.
There might be plumbers today and there might not. There will be heat, with a high of 92, which is the lowest high in the forecast for the net two weeks. Beyond that it's probably going to be worse. The first eleven days of July all feature triple digit highs, and some lows in the mid-seventies. If somebody plans on murdering me, please do it now. Bueller? Anybody?
So, Wednesday. Vanished beyond recall. No big loss, no doubt. I think I might have remembered to check the mail, but if so I don't think there was any. At least there's nothing new sitting on the table where I put fresh mail when I get it. I do have the nagging feeling there was something else I was supposed to do but didn't, but damned if I can be sure. Maybe no catastrophe will ensue. If it does, then I can always use it as an excuse to slip farther into delusion.
There might be plumbers today and there might not. There will be heat, with a high of 92, which is the lowest high in the forecast for the net two weeks. Beyond that it's probably going to be worse. The first eleven days of July all feature triple digit highs, and some lows in the mid-seventies. If somebody plans on murdering me, please do it now. Bueller? Anybody?
