5/10/2020
I can’t remember the last time I was. That’s not a suddenly stopped sentence. There’s no blank to fill in there. I wasn’t saying something like I can’t remember the last time I was happy and then trailed off. I simply can’t remember the last time I was. As in existed. I seem to remember cannons and stuff. There’s some images of gnarly beards in there. Also a really vivid image of a field covered in bodies. That kind of thing sticks with you. I remember bumping and swaying, like riding in a wagon and moving towards sunsets. Can’t say which was first or next. It all blends together. Dancing naked in the mud was later. Way later. Everything in between is like a dream I can’t remember. I just remember having it. The car rolling off an assembly line might have been from a movie. First kisses are all kind of blending together and the faces are mixes of faces. If that makes sense. No idea how long I’ve been waiting this time. Waiting in between was and am. Waiting in this weird space of will be.