so, do you think that conversations stay in bars? i do. i bet that discussions about chess and simpsons episodes and old cure songs hang like smoke in the rafters. people sit in the chairs below and talk about the same things over, as the pop-culture remnants of speech float from overhead in endless cycles like songs on the jukebox.

or something. i had a lovely sandwich dinner and excellent, excellent talk with my mom, and now i’m very tired. it’s funny how you can carry news around as a sharp fraggle-rock-doozerlike structure inside of you, and when you let it out there’s nothing there to hold you up, so you become fuzzy and amoeba-like for a while. but that’s probably just me.

and the front of my hair is pale blue. but not as a result of the sandwich, as it was turkey.