remnants

people like to joke about how hot dogs are made from pig assholes. well. i'm pretty sure the hot dog i just ate was made from the asshole of a pig's asshole, if that's possible? i mean. i bought it from a truck on the corner of 17th and mission and it was wrapped in bacon.

i finished it before i even got halfway home.

i've been making an effort to get out of my comfort zone. tonight i worked, for instance. and wore something more than a little bit out of character. then i exchanged phone numbers with a girl and i'm pretty sure she wants my bod and i think i'm okay with that.

and earlier today i went to the beach, but by the time i was ready to go on a walk it was raining hard, so i just came home and worked out instead.

tomorrow i'm headed out to oakland, because i love it and because i'm having tea or mimosas or a trip to the library with a friend i haven't seen in like 12 years. amazing.

i've been so bummed lately. kicking my lip around, wondering when The Next Big Thing is going to happen.

and it's like. in the last three days i just realized that nothing just fuckin "happens" to me. the way things work is that i make an effort, and then the world falls at my feet with all its possibilities there for me to select from. life is waiting to dazzle me, love is waiting to overwhelm me.

rapture.

i'm ready for that shit.

vacation is stellar. i want to marry it forever and ever. with limitless dough to make it more fantastic than just a bunch of time on my hands.

i shall dream this and dream this until it comes true.

good night.