At the retreat, we learn how to let go of the future.
A balloon floats toward a mountain named after the blood of Christ which looks upon us.
You are not enjoying life when you are thinking about life, the guru says.
Stop watching words!
Everything the guru says we take to heart. Mine’s patched up.
In other parts of the world, houses empty.
Forests wake up.
We have breakfast.
We work hard. We shower.
At certain times we have access to our phones
One night, William texts, It’s coming together well.
I don't know what it is, but I’m amused. …
I have never loved
someone as much as I loved you
a character with long
who was full of herself, very
and played for laughs
came with a laugh track like you did
out the window, scratch
your neck yeah keep
where did you leave your coffee
a loaf of bread and
a bottle of water and I give you
a set of keys to places
you want to enter
Bena and I got high and went out into the city lapping up one another’s energy after, fresh feelings of happiness like fingers flipping through vinyl records or diving into basins of candy. We were serious about walking everywhere we could, and I brought along my Minolta. We’d spied and laughed through two neighborhoods before Bena got bored and ambled off in the direction of a taco stand. Bye-bye, Bena. See ya, W. B.
I ate falafel in the fourth neighborhood. Wearing a mask feels so good, we’re doing it to live! …
A couple of nights ago, one of the virgin-birds in our building flew off the rooftop. His goggles obscured his eyes. The regulation black suit clung to his skin and was zipped up to his neck just so. Governess must have been proud. He dived and went up in a majestic arc.
The rest of us guys dive once and that’s it. We dive but land on the ground, where we’re christened humming-birds. Henry says, “We’re just plucking daisies,” meaning we have it made.
Ours is one of many tales. Like the tale about a governess who finds a baby floating down a stream in a container, it’s true. …
There he was minding his own business, I don’t know, he was a nice, skinny kid. He wanted a Betamax. VHS didn’t exist, and when it did exist, he wanted a Betamax as much as he had when only Betamax existed.
He never stopped wanting a Betamax, not even amid the roar that Betamax would be pushed out of the market by VHS and cease production.
The skinny kid kept minding his business.
He was a kid and older, and he went away to study. He got a job in a football field of a cafeteria and, at a steady pace, saved money, for a Betamax. The kid had a good time. He could treat a friend to beer, go to the movies, invest in a cool shirt, and eat pizza whenever he wanted, while he saved for a Betamax. …