next bus in:

2 & 4 min

rte=1 - Main St & Santa Monica BIvd/UCLA

stp=Santa Monica EB & Berkeley NS

Carsick: look for the horizon.

Heartsick: look for the horizon.

There is a joke here. There is also a fallacy-

I haven't lost hope. Sucks to be sick to my stomach, a sick that sticks.

Sticks and stones veil butterflies. Wings are always fragile.

I am speaking quietly these days and thinking less of symmetry. Asymmetry is in.

I long for cotton, I long for rope.

Creams and beige. Never white.

I yearned for home, so I went home. I yearned for home again, but that box got ticked already.

Checked the cupboard for old photos, but l've been through them all.

I've been on the bus, l've been on the train. Planes don't satisfy, the airports have no mercy. The bus is full now, the crying baby's permanent hymn. I don't remember when I last cried. My head is clear these days, free of many Hims. I thank the bus driver as usual.

Outside, it's warmer than I remember.

August 11, 2023