to reach for those far corners

i just called my electrical outlet a slut because nothing i plug into it stays in.

i am finding this characterization hilarious right now.

i came in from the park and was going to write some poem based on the sensation of winter cold clinging, resisting spring, a strengthening film wrapped on the ends of my fingers. a cold, wet film. but the first thing i think before i start writing is 'hobag' because my electrical cords don't stay plugged in.

how's that for poetry.

i was seeing bizarre things in the park this evening, right at dusk. right when the light plays tricks on your eyes, so they say. i thought i was watching someone wearing a yellow-gold jacket and black pants. i thought they were walking across the open play field. but the person seemed to pause for times, moving further away, or was it towards me. i suspected i was tripping out. but i didn't feel anxious, and everything else seemed normal. i was just as though i was really physically seeing some manifestation. maybe this is how it's being introduced. instead of one day seeing a spirit would be much to startling for me. maybe it'll advance from a far over a period of time.

i can certainly see the so much real people out and about. usually they make some sort of noise in combination with their movement - footsteps, dog-tags jingling. hm, now the word jingling is making me think of chinese people, learning english, as though i were their teacher. me as an english teacher in china? been there, done that.

i just remembered to change my headphones from my ipod to my laptop, so i don't have that confusion over where the controls were. classic.

i'm listening to the lykke li album for the first time. i'm falling in love. it's a great quirky, mash-up harmony of so many classic but eclectic styles. she makes it all so lovely.

my love, it burns it burns

my love will come, my love will come

for you i wait, for you i wait, my love

it sounds so inspiring, as i feel it spiraling down my eardrums, over my breath and into my core. 

i'd do that over any crowed venue, any saturday night. what's more to love than toking up, way way up, and putting on a new record i've never heard. putting on my headphones, turning up the volume. lean back, relaxed arms, simply breathing deeply and listening. the privilege of the experience. the purity of the moment, how the weed aids in focusing, the total absorption of the moment. really reaching towards perfection. so close to completely letting go. it feels good to stretch out that far.