oh we love to lose our minds

rabbit rabbit. i remember this date...no, a day, the day, the day exactly two years and five months ago. it was a reference from which to count time; i remember noting when both a year and two years had passed. and now again, the days are numbered. 30 days.

it's thursday morning but it feels like a sunday morning where i again woke up too early and feel restless. i never notice the sound of the trains here but they're less than a block away. will i live by trains in 30 days? they've always been around, somewhere; i recall them 10 years ago...the same trains cutting through the telephone, narrowing the distance of miles and a river of separation. but then i recall counting time, and i remember hines drive in the fall with the trees so bright like jewels...i swear there was even a sapphire in there if you squinted, i remember being snowed in and fighting and sleeping on her couch, i remember the room upstairs, the one of near-sin, with its tiny bed, and i remember another bed so very well i could draw or paint it with words or brush strokes, i remember taking woodward alone downtown to the show on october first, and i remember the panic in the voices of my friends, and i remember the next day, and the night, and the next and the next. i remember opening a gift in a parking lot after an abdandoned departure and bursting uncontrollably into tears upon seeing finality scratched into the surface. i remember drawing music history on a scrap of paper and noting internally that i would be the only one to ever follow such a thing. and i remember the sound of the drums in that song i replayed and replayed...going in circles, almost yearning, kneading...then hard and almost off-time, like the feeling of being awaken with a kiss in the middle of the night, trying to get your bearings. i remember being on one side of a scale.

sentimentality lately.