This was 12 years, 8 months, 16 days ago

it's been a while.

and I am crazy busy.

and january has been a slew of changes. a heap of smiles.

it is late and I am up and I think of north-of-the-east-village, I think of brooklyn, I think of a hotel in midtown. I think that right now, at this moment, that street in brooklyn is silent, there's ice on the sidewalk, the first floor is quiet, there's radio in the background, a cat sleeping upstairs, and I imagine what it must be like to be there, there-not-here. but I am here, the lights so lit brightly.

I also think of a small room in a gridded pattern with solid walls cool to the touch, with yellowed lights and a view of the east river and the serene tendrils of music wafting out from under a pile of clothes. the thing that touches me the most, I think is the disarray, and I think I have to call it an affectionate disarray, a pile of clothes and objects arranged each in according to a thoughtful manner, because that goes here and this goes there, and all together they create this scene of affection, small rock nestled in the ridge of a book. things not lost, but misplaced, and not forgotten. the yellow of incandescent light bulbs shining forth.