August Sixth Through The Eighth.
When we speak, I will look at your eyes and not your mouth. The eyes are more interesting than the mouth. And when I look at your eyes as we speak, I will not be listening to what you are saying, nor will I be paying attention to what I am saying. Instead, I will be off in another place. One of amazement. Instead of listening and actually hearing the words of thought, which I am sure are intelligent and interesting, I will be lost in how those eyes came to be. Forgive my one-word responses, and please excuse my blank stare. It is not that you are boring. As I mentioned before, I am most positive your thoughts are interesting and intelligent beyond belief. But I am more interested in the movement of your eyes, and what they see beyond spoken words. Your vision is priceless, you see. It allows you to view the beauty and horror of what surrounds you. My sight is also priceless. Without it, I would not be able to question beauty.***
... I love the way light shines on trees. I envy it in more ways than one. Natural light never meant much to me before I had to go a day or two without it. [Deleted words]. The darkness has found me. The light was closed by my five fingers. Well, one, actually. Maybe it burned out. I don't remember. Oh, will you look at how the time flies? It's already seven o'clock. Soon it will be ten. There's no telling where the night will have taken me by then. Maybe a place where thought isn't required, and my biggest fear is tomorrow. Sleeping is one of my favorite things to do, which begs the question of why I don't indulge in it more often. The night passes too quickly when you are asleep. At least if you stay awake until four a.m., the next workday approaches at a seemingly slower pace. The world these days is too fast. Cars rush past me in the hours of the morning before I've had my first cup of coffee. I notice myself gradually moving faster with them. But I don't know why. The faster we live, the faster we die? I don't meet many people who are eager to die. Maybe the people in those cars really love their jobs and can't wait to get crackin' on that big pile of work they save for a Friday afternoon. Yes, that must be it. I have answered my own question: People drive fast in the morning so they can get crackin' on the thing they enjoy most: paperwork that has been piling for weeks. If only every one of life's questions were this easy to answer. But where is the fun in that? We would all be miserable human beings if we knew the mysteries of earth and soul. [Deleted words]. They don't exist anymore, not in this world and not in the next. [Deleted words]. Notice the handwriting on the page, it's sloppier than it was before. You must be getting anxious to read what I write next. Has the writing taken over the man, or is it the other way around? Nobody can tell these days. You must hurry up and get that last thought on the page. Your eyes are half closed. Sleepiness enters, and even the strongest of energy drinks can't save you now. Simple words of beauty. [Deleted words]. I've been curious if the music one listens to while writing has any effect on the finished product. My guess would be "yes." And I'm positive many studies have been conducted. No doubt. [Deleted words]. I'll sit here alone and reflect on these words. I think it will make for an interesting Saturday night.
***
Why is it that every time I step foot into another country I either slice the shit out of my finger or get hassled by the passport people? Maybe it's the beard, or perhaps it's my suspicious eyes. I don't know. Yeah, I tend to make pretty good first impressions. Take tonight, for example. I met some guy and girl from Glendale (Calif.). The guy says something about "Greetings from [enter familiar name here]." Meanwhile, I have about a gallon of blood dripping down my hand. It almost makes you feel like a madman. But enough about that. Oh, shit. I think I was being videotaped. (Not by the government.) I'm not sure what the little arrow to the left is supposed to mean, but it doesn't matter. [Deleted words]. We drove down this street with a bunch of casinos. The guy sitting next to the bus driver called it the "Armenian Las Vegas." It was kind of funny, I guess. Not really, actually. [Deleted words]. I have a feeling these days will be strange. Do you know why? Because life is strange. Here's a thought: Maybe I should retire young and live in Armenia. That's pretty interesting. [Deleted words]. I'm in a hotel room. It's almost 3 a.m. [Deleted words]. I told you life is strange. So strange, in fact, that too many people take it seriously. This includes me. By the way, do you ever have the strange feeling you have cancer? Paranoia.
