yoferrealman
This morning I was restless, so I decided to snoop around the house. I like finding shit. The owner is in Spain, on the set of a movie. She's an assistant to a movie producer. Assistant Producer, I think is her title. She and I go back. She made us a set of keys and even scribbled down some names on a piece of paper. We should call so and so for a gig on a set.
"Or better yet, just show up at this office looking smart," she said, copying an address from her Palm.
Real work, legit work.
I'm chewing up the paper she wrote that shit on as we speak.
The nicer people are, the less I can accept it.
Fuck it. When my earnings are gone, Jules will probably be gone with it.
I'm not moving shit and I don't plan on it. Hear me Mr. Officer?
I know you're out there.
Anyway Jules is already getting gigs at all the clubs.
It's only a matter of seconds before she signs up on a fat payroll, so I don't worry about her.
As for myself, I'm not too ambitious.
I'll hide out in this attic. Live off of hob-nobs.
I'll call out loud, "what's the frequency, kenneth?" as I read Auden and make collage art with shit I find lying around.
there's a lot of shit lying around
that brings me back to what I started out saying
about how this morning i was poking around the place
jules wasn't home, it was must me and the bbc
I was wearing a silk purple smoking jacket that i found in a hallway closet.
I smelled like death
like i'm so sarry
not funny i know
i went through all the shelves and cabinets and found nothing interesting
there was a lot of space with nothing in it
like she'd only half moved in
just for the hell of it, I started going through one of Jules still unpacked suitcases.
This one was all winter clothes on top.
On bottom were papers, magazines.
Photocopied philosophical texts.
Gadamer, Heidegger, Kant. In German.
What looked like a fax copy of a Tennessee Williams' play.
Folded-up maps of Holland. Little wooden boxes from Africa, wrapped partially in newspaper.
I pulled at a corner of the paper--to rip off a piece for my collection--when a tiny square of paper fluttered out of the fold and onto the floor.
From it's fall I could tell that it was colored green on one side and white on the other.
It landed green side up. A small tab of acid.
The design was a simple green oval.
green monster, i thought to myself, knowing that was probably not what it was called.
not here, not for years
Jules wasn't really into acid, she probably packed this by mistake.
fuck it i'm not really into it either but this seemed like fate
i took it upstairs and thought about it
acid can go either way
and i was too sick to get naked and run around in the woods
which is my preferred tripping scenario.
also i'm alone
who knows when Jules would be back?
I stood by the window listening to cars pass by.
fuck it i thought.
that was almost an hour ago
now these tiny blue windows are popping up over the keyboard while I type
an illuminated manuscript
awesome and bright
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