today i drew an old homeless man, a fag pirate with earrings and a braid in his beard (he started out as tera), a fashionable robotic bellhop, and a scowling point guard with a 'fro and a squared-off goatee.
i spent some hours at barnes & noble, and the time, although much of it was spent begging for a job there and at the adjoining starbucks, was quite peacefully spent. if i hadn't left the house i would've killed myself and done it extra messily out of spite.
i wrote some on the busride home but mostly just sat having vaguely literary thoughts.
while i was at the stop between the bookstore's and my own, i picked one of the needly spines of a small, bushy plant, the compatriots of which seemed to gather and surround a palm tree in a planter. confronted by flame, the needle first turned brighter green; blotches of white appeared; suddenly a spark, another––and the end of the needle went black and curled in on itself. the smoke was like something you'd catch a whiff of walking on the beach trying to find your hat.
i practiced piano and read magazines when i got home.
|