under the only lamp in the living room. (which is not really living right now, but resting.)

fresh crushed lush trash, rush now. time is tight. tonight. right. a packed day of sorts. and yet it feels as if it had been a bit of a dance. punches were given out, but some of them felt more like air caressing the face than true blows that break jaws. today. there were two flying monkeys around the office today. i had bought them after liking one just like them, with a chewed off face though. special cases. we do not make fun of conditions that are not voluntary. the weather is not half bad today. it is still a bit on the grey side, but hey, it is getting warmer. soon the plants will be allowed to play with the pigeons outside. something they and the pigeons have been waiting for all winter long. exciting. we had lunch with the famous mr. bingo (and mrs. bingo,) after introducing him as the mysterious surprise guest who knows why harrison ford is a lady. a wig did not look like a wig when one did not pay attention to it being a wig. i guess that's how it always works somehow. with wigs and pieces and hair systems. i want to go bald gracefully. bald means "soon" in german. pessimists. it is almost 10. and i am feeling like a freshly hatched 65 year old (though one that still has about 30 years until retirement.) took two cabs today. fresh crushed dish soap, hope... rope? nope. there was an okay sound to this. perhaps in some former life. need to take the raft to the other side of the river, perhaps. enough.