Following Me
The strangest things can happen in this city. I am sure this person is following me. But why? Simple attraction? Is it a guy or a girl. He/she appears harmless but there are strangers in cities. Providence is not immune. This is no playground.
I know I have this: a fine pen, a clean desk, a good notebook, some milk, a light, and A Vision by Yeats. I like being surrounded by things of power. Knowledge is power and language is and so is food. Not everyone knows what has power and fail to get it. They make many mistakes and so do I.
My whole life is: getting tired. That is all one does: get tired. That is why one does anything and especially acts out of habit. The soul is final in the body of a beautiful man or woman. The procedure remains difficult. Getting tired and dreaming. Being far away. Not being able to finish and not finishing. Tired. That is there. But I am rising above it.
There I hope again–to take care of things at a different level. I get tired and sleep and always did when I was a baby.