dinky/balalaika/poony/barnacle/malingerer/succulent
Well, this may be a dinky furrow but I want you to know what it means to me. I’m back and I’m in the black baby. If I had a balalaika, I’d grab it and play a fetching waltz.
My landlord has disappeared. It’s been pretty nice for me, on account of he weighs in around 200 lbs. and the wood floors up there creak.
But I start to wonder if he offed himself, and the corpse is up there, a rotting.
And if one day…there’ll be some drip, drip, dripping noises coming from the ceiling.
I sure don’t like thinking thoughts like that, but it’s hard to take full & complete control of the Mind.
The Mind. The thing what won’t let me sleep. The thing that drives me to Eat. The thing that pushes us, as if from behind, every step of the way.
The thing with all the Pride. I won’t be shoved around! I won’t be pushed around! Out, malingering plagues!
I couldn’t find poony in my online dictionary and am feeling too tired to fetch the big book, so until tomorrow, I’ll have to settle for pooh-bah, which came up as I looked up poony.
An arrogant or conceited person of importance.
I didn’t know that was the definition?! Why are people always so proudly referring to themselves as pooh-bahs? Oh, I get it! Sarcasm!
Well, it’s Sunday night. I had some mighty lofty goals, but I didn’t make it to those lofts. Didn’t even reach base camp much less the summits. But as Puss-Puss reminded me today, tomorrow is MLK day, so it doesn’t really matter. I think this means mail doesn’t come, which is a bummer. But it also means a kinda day off.
I thought today of what a heroic man Martin Luther King was.
I thought of how I look at heroes, and think, there they go. Where I go is with the pack—to eat ribs and such. I feed and clothe myself, and I scrape by, leaving heroics for the heroes.
But what if—what if—there’s still time to be a hero? I could just do that this spring, by saving a few trees. That might just be enough for me to rest quietly when they take me over, to the other side of the river, where Paradise lays. I want to sleep real well over there. I don’t want the after-Mind (sorry, EJ, ideers dies hard), to pester me about what I did and did not do.
It bothers me, for instance, that there’s still plenty of slavery and torture going on in the world, e’en as I type, and I do nothing to mitigate it, nothing at all.
G’night and Lord help me find love, and not mistake it for a barnacle or other nuisance.
Words for 01/21/2008: [also i want to say that creating the word list for you is an act of Love. perhaps I have lessened suffering, albeit slightly, today ][
barkeep / inseparable / probity / shockheaded / shod / florid / armadillo
Responses to “Lord help me find love”
January 25th, 2008 at 12:31 am
See I lived in this bldg one time and a very old woman was one of my neighbors.
One day she was having trouble with her flashlight, and flagged me down. I helped her. The batteries were in, but turned in the wrong way. She was very grateful.
Then I didn’t see her for a while. She had gone in and died, laid there several days, and no one found her for quite some time. Left me with the eeriest feeling when people disappear.
What’s wierd is that my landlord used to inform me when he was leaving for a 2 day fishing trip. But now he’s been gone since like Dec. 12th, but he said nothing to me b4 he left.
Ewwh I do hope he’s okay. He looks just like one of the lead characters from the series “Rome”, Titus Pullo:
http://www.hbo.com/rome/cast/character/titus_pullo.html
January 24th, 2008 at 11:26 pm
Ewww I’m now picturing your landlord’s dripping corpse. And it’s so warm in your apt. Eww. I wrote about dead things too, must have been the day for it.