In my bedroom, listening to Naty play her older guitar. Hard to get this tuned. Her song, “Peculiar Dream” still always makes me smile.
So lovely the words pound, so lovely she loves me after a break down.
Got her a new cell phone the other day, because the old one crapped out. I believe these new phones are shaped like bars of soap for a reason. If they can’t get you to drop it they’ll just make the damn thing break.
The vendor told me to not install anything on it for a week. It took all my effort to not say, “do you know how fucking stupid that sounds?” He said you want to know for sure if the phone works, before you put any programs on it. I said if a Facebook app doesn’t work on an Android, then the Android doesn’t work, period. The more things get advanced the worse people get at their jobs, the lower the bar is set.
Laying around on my day off, Friday. We have some pictures from this new phone. The phone is awesome. The camera is so good. I’m playing with this thing too much. Maybe I can write a few words more often and let the pics do the rest of the blogging.
I’m tired. I had a multivitamin this morning, and combined with my normal medications later my stomach was just screaming at me. I felt like Eminem at the height of his opiate addiction, scarfing down Taco Bell to settle his stomach. Only in my case it was Rosti Pollo’s.
Been teaching the whole week. Got that 50r win on Tuesday after I busted 18th or something in the SCOOP 50r Action Hour. Haven’t played since then. I did sand down and varnish some new couches with my wife. I got a couple new shed/closets put together outside. I had coffee with my wife’s grandmother, and her friend who just had a baby.
I never understood when people babbled on about the “miracle of life.” But looking at this 6-day-old baby all I could think was…how does this happen? If we pooled all the nations money together and focused on creating one of these with all of our machinery we couldn’t do it.
I felt bad for every abortion I’d ever shrugged at. Then, when they handed the child to me, I was terrified. I thought I might crush his tiny fingers by accident, squeezing him just a little too hard, and mess him up for life. I’d never realized how delicate a newborn is. How we were all that helpless once.
My wife and I walked around our friend’s house. It’s nice to be in nature.
No idea if this is her playing the guitar or a slight earthquake. We have many of them in Costa Rica, slight ones, barely felt.
So into my survival brain that I feel angered when one proves color in my surroundings. Talking is difficult. My thoughts wouldn’t be so confining, if I wasn’t always stuck within them. Play a song for me; I will stop paying attention within 10 seconds, even if you stare right at me as you play it.
The tension stops when you crack it, and only then. My Samsung phone uploads to my laptop, which I can view from my Sony desktop, or in my tablet. I’ll roll my eyes back with winged static. I’m not creating anything; I excavate from the flood of not-quite-worthwhile cosas. I don’t know if that is a period or a speck on the screen. I should have left my mind in Buffalo, or Connecticut, or Haverton. Titanic on the flute.
An inundation to my soggy cortex. I use big words to bring mediocre meaning to what’s small, and I probably am not using them right. Flood sound ringtone, or an algae-stained river. I should have left my mind in Buffalo.