Weighing sort of a little bit down. Do not have all the way the total awareness as to whatever is going on. Finding you are operating on autopilot, unable to regain control of your faculties. Because something is gone where once you were able to affect some desired change. But now, having not read for real for so very long, you have come to be a little vegetated. Well do you have an answer there or not. I am waiting for the warmth to come back in. I am waiting for the door to close and the warmth to continue. Still, I cannot say. There are people moving in and out all throughout the whole room, going away and coming in, being customers, finding their coffee, finding their seats, doing things far be it from me to say the ontology of. I am just sitting here tryign to write. But what it is, I don’t know. I’ve been pseudo-journaling, saying essentially strange near-nothing while writing a good bit on the page. The vanilla latte has a good taste. The green-hooded lamp has a nice ray. And a dangling pulley switch of brass. And shines on the crumbs of the pesto croissant on a little glass plate. The woodgrain of the table visible underneath, and beautiful. Light melt of the brick away. The walls of the cafe becoming abstract skeletons in a blueprint somewhere. Even now I am doing this thing. Again: autopilot. I have no idea what I am saying, but I am saying it. And things have changed.

I used to write a certain way, and it was one in which I found I could be proud of whatever it was I was trying to say, for the most part at least. Now, after not having read for a long time, too, and having very little in a way of describing the world to myself, it feels like, I have become the late-waking cryo-stasis sleeper who’s realized something has been lost and can barely remember. Or something. I want to believe in a better thing. I sometimes do. But it is all too fleeting; I allow myself only so much time to enjoy the moments of appreciation before they are all gone.

I … .

Where was I, then? If I woke up, did you forget to tell me? I am missing the plot a good deal, now. I ought to work on The Golden Damned or something. Atom Heart Mother Suite is playing in my noise-cancelling headphones, and it is beautiful.