1:01 a.m. and my heart is fluttering
2 hours later and the dog’s nose is wet
but I’m no bet-ter
3:16 JOHN, not the Bible verse, just a bathroom,
cold floor relief
4, then it’s 5, then it’s six-oh-five and
I’m up, and alive.
my heart is fluttering
photo: East Bernard, TX, Holga, Ektachrome 400, dated 1994, cross-processed.
texas to me is a mishmash of things; butthole surfers, breakfast tacos, photo friends, heat beyond reproach, dumb politicians, pain teens, tobe hooper, chainsaw massacres, loudness and quiet moments and love, life, space, cherubs, emo’s, cheap peeks, odessa and grins.
you can see, be, say, do two things at once. doesn’t mean either of them will be the better for it. may actually be worse for it. but sometimes duality mumbles quietly…something(s) part of both that make a whole.
weird at times, how images appear, then disappear just as quickly. one click of the shutter, usually hurried, shaky, not as sharp as you would like–but there… too far away, wrong camera but you still try to grab it before it’s gone, one frame on a roll of 12 then on to something else. just capture the here, now, if you can. and, you can.
“You’re either gonna be a terrible old man or a really cool old man, so you might as well try and point your way towards cool. “- John Dwyer, Thee Oh Sees
having been away from the “bar business” for quite some time and having given up hanging out for hours in one, i probably am not the best person to ponder if the local watering hole/home away from home/Cheers is still a thing. but i assume it is in that folks will always find a nook to sit, drink, chat, drink, stare at a TV, drink, hear a band, drink, get in a fist fight, drink, pick up a man, woman, farm animal, drink that they can call their own. i know it ain’t just an american thing, but i know we definitely are one of the world’s leaders in said activity.
“We’re living in a funny world kid, a peculiar civilization. The police are playing crooks in it, and the crooks are doing police duty. The politicians are preachers, and the preachers are politicians. The tax collectors collect for themselves. The bad people want us to have more dough, and the good people are fighting to keep it from us. It’s not good for us, know what I mean? If we had all we wanted to eat, we’d eat too much. We’d have inflation in the toilet paper industry. That’s the way I understand it. That’s about the size of some of the arguments I’ve heard.”
—Jim Thompson, The Killer Inside Me
yes, yes, it approaches. the spring season of soccer in the midwest/south. miles on the road between kentucky, ohio, virginia, tennessee, indiana and the like. dreams of trophies and cups. and getting better, always better–ball to foot, earphones to head, foot to gas, smiles to faces. sun-up will be here before we know it and we will start that day.
whether or not you buy into the whole “it’s a new year, i’m gonna make wholesale changes” narrative that comes with flipping the calendar or not, there’s some to be said for striving to make the next year better than the last. it does kind of suck that you have to motivate change in the middle of the damned winter though. i mean really, it’s 7 degrees and i’m supposed to feel some form of renewal? grade me on a curve, please.
sunny day at the St. Louis arch.