Arlington is awesome

I’m looking at the serene, almost drugged, face of my cat. so still.

there was one conversation today: please do the dishes.

there was a walk. went up and caught the train to Ballston. turning down the idea of a movie, I proceeded on to the library where I sat in the second floor bay window and looked out to the lot, the field, the tennis courts, the buildings, sky, and what was left of the snow. Ulysses read well for one page. but I couldn’t concentrate. only day dream. girls in my past, all of it. all of it gone. I don’t know where anyone is any more. maybe I’m saved from it.

I walked by the church sign – don’t be afraid, just believe. omens. I see all those Arlington streets with very curious eyes, as if I’m setting into a very extraordinary, mystical land. this is where I used to live. just down the street I rented a room, hung out with my old friends, had that stupid job, watched Millennium as it started out. in that doughnut shop I laughed with J.S., my heart started to hurt and I rushed, holding it, into the bathroom, silly from all the sugar. small things mattered, like toast parties. toast your bread, get the butter, cut it like a bunch of ships. you and one other person would make up the party, talking, sitting in front of the TV, or in my room talking there, or reading. we would read to each other whole short stories in one afternoon. J.D. Salinger is a master, I said. and I still mean it.

Arlington also gave me the usual opportunities to be a jackass and make some terrible decisions – such as giving up on friends who were driving me crazy. of course half of me still says it was for the best. I don’t have any hard feelings now. turns out I had a little more life with them and all the risks than I do now with everything streamlined and routine.

tomorrow, work and more work. it’s all I will say. everyone get good rest.