Drunk, and in charge of a bicycle.

The Pyramid Song
- Radiohead

i jumped in the river and what did I see?
black-eyed angels swimming with me
a moon full of stars and astral cars
all the figures i used to see
all my lovers were there with me
all my past and futures
and we all went to heaven in a little row boat

there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

i jumped in the river
black-eyed angels swimming with me
a moon full of stars and astral cars
all the figures i used to see
all my lovers were there with me
all my past and futures
and we all went to heaven in a little row boat

there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt
there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

Jet lag, FAT week, tree bukkake and a variety of other factors have all caught up with me; I’m sooooo tired. Been dragging my sorry a$$ to work every day, and thankfully, it’s been busy, otherwise I’d been curled in a ball under my desk.

Lately I feel as if I have amnesia; I realized sometime this week that it’s May, and I can’t remember how I got here. I know that I’ve been doing stuff, I know that I’ve been up to an awful lot, actually, I just can’t piece together all the blurry details. The days are passing more quickly and suddenly I am no longer getting home from work in darkness. Being in San Francisco during an unseasonable warm spell has got my head to thinking it’s summertime. I’ve been a lot of places these last few weeks – Maine, DC, San Francisco. Soon, Florida. I don’t mind it, really, but I’m feeling a bit like Tyler Durden. I’m not waking up and not knowing which airport I’m in; I’m waking up and feeling more that someone else has been living my life and doing all the crazy things I’ve been doing, and she’s got much more energy than I have, let me tell you. She’s been giving me these crazy ideas and crazy dreams, and though part of me wants to tie her to a chair for a little while, I’m not going to. She feeds my soul, she keeps me from being stagnant. And stagnancy is worse than death.

Senor Mysterioso speaks of "slow change"; in my world, it is much like watching a movie still by still, where the changes are nearly imperceptible as you stare at each scene, but if you replay the reel at normal speed in your mind you see how it all happened.

Murph reminded me last night of where I was 10 short years ago. Grad school at NYU, single and pursuing, the photograph on Murph’s birthday of me holding a beer and a cigarette at the Jolly Roger says it all...10 years ago was the summer that Joey fell in love with me, where he let me drive his ’77 souped up TA, she was silver and red and for a kiss she was mine for a little while...that was the summer I met Mouse and went down to DC for our three-day first date, and broke Joey’s heart, but I was oblivious...the summer I lived with Pookie, who threw herself down on the edge of the bathtub to end her pregnancy, "no, I slipped" she said as the blood swirled about her...the summer when New York City was hot and sticky, like too much tawdry sex, and it clung to you even after you showered and you smelled it in your skin: musk and dirt and life.

Then as it was, then again it will be
Though the course may change sometimes
Rivers always reach the sea