10-5-10

I sat with my head back against the artificial furnishings, surveying the patterns left by time, wondering when the next rainfall would be and if i could catch a piece of it in my weary eyes in the hopes that it would make me a little more sentient.

No, not today.

Lately ive been wondering where you are. I would write you if i remembered the address. I could never remember, I would always have to look on the envelope of the only reply youve ever sent. now i dont know, it was either 31 or 41, well, it wouldnt make much of a difference nonetheless. In the latter im coming to know that conversation and script dont mean too much to me. I havent been able to make it what it is. Im so bent on preconceiving in my sheets that ive run out of contemporary charm or maybe its just...

I wanna watch you paint maps and I just want to know where you are and how. 

I am

inconsistent

and

frustrated.