It's been forty days and nights since New Year's Eve 2004, and now I am back living at the Alexander Berkman Collective. I have a new room without accoutrements to clutter it. It's as sparse as the North Dakota landscape I just came from.
Yesterday was Mardi Gras. My friend Chad, who sometimes drums for me--or rather, his girlfriend Talcott--gave birth a little girl whom they named Clementine last night.
Today is the Chinese New Year. It's the Year of the Cock.
Jupiter, my house mate Kat's cat, crapped on my comforter twice this morning. It was salmon pate from a discount store, and it made him sick.
I'm a little depressed tonight. Just wrote my seventh song in the last thirty days though, which is rare for me. It's a manic rap which I call "Galahad."
I believe that I'll be seeking the magic waters of Goldmeyer Hot Springs very, very soon.
1 comment:
happy new year!
Post a Comment