dun dun dun dee dee dee dee dee dun dun dun dee dee dee dee dee

"I only watched he walk, but she saw it
I only heard her talk, but she saw it
I only touched her lips, but she saw it
I only kissed her lips, but she saw it"

Some wine, some games, and I have 1 free day left in my summer, not tomorrow, but Monday, where I will have a bbq with 2 of my very good friends, and maybe Tim. I think that would be cool. Meld my groups for the first time. Tim is the kind of kid that will fit in anywhere, which is a good thing, and will make the bbq good.

Then the apartment. Tuesday I'm in. Claire might end up crashing there, as she is homeless until the 6th. This would be a good way to get to know her, in person. Hope I don't fuck that up. Then John will come up sometime during the week to help christen the place. Man, I'm ready. I'm ready to get back into it. I also am looking into buying a keyboard to fuck around with. The musical kind. I figure that it is more copacetic than the accordion in the quiet housing, and it would let me learn how to play the piano at times.

dun dun dee dee dee dee dun
dun dun dee dee dee dee dun

"I know I won't be leaving here
with you"

Trepedation, temptation, and tremourous rumbles the vibrate the spine. The car lept forward, like a scalded man who just spilled coffee on his lap. The car revved and pulled, and flew, flew forward. The pull of the acceleration pulled me back into my seat, and for a moment I'm very scared. I see the posts flying by, faster and faster...I know that if I keep this up things will get very dangerous, but I can't stop. To slow down is to fail, but to speed up is to be a god. The speed grows geometrically with the risks, and finally something goes wrong. The speed is above the century mark. The music is loud, but inappropriate: Tom Jones. Love songs. Love songs for speed junkies. The mood is queer, nothing is right. I know this, and I am losing control of it, the car was part of me, but it's spinning, not in the literal sense, but spinning out of my control. I try and get it back, get in touch with it again, but I take my eyes off the road. The speed is double the century, breaking the sound barrier and all land speed records. I have no time to pause. I think of a girl that I once saw, not personally, but saw in passing. She was fair and beautiful, the kind of girl that you want to marry at the sight of, but forget 10 minutes later. I think of her as the sandstone colored divider looms larger in my diverted field of view. The steering wheel is meticulously stitched, I notice, before the impact. The actual impact, to repeat the word for emphasis, tears the seat clear from the car. I am propelled into the stratosphere, which is very high, so high in fact that I can see my house from there. I mutter this to myself, amused. The flight was quite nice in fact, relaxing. The approach smooth, but the landing rough. I unbuckle my seatbelt, dust off the dream, and walk into my house.

"You see her
You can't touch her
You hear her
You can't hold her
You want her
You can't have her
You want to
But she won't let you"

(music furnished by me, lyrics by Franz Ferdinand, again)

-ccm