so glad

... that I don't live here anymore...
As I spend time so stiff in caffe pergolesi, with a hard ass bench beneath my sore behind, I have a lady familiar sitting behind me, cutting and pasting and being so crafty, glad she's not being her bossy self and I'm not schlepping boxes around right now with her at the civic...
And across the room on the far side are Chip and Ron, the latter of the two doesn't remember who I am even though I've handled his lights and circuited his boards a couple times before... and Chip says yes the Attic does have wireless, "you might be able to get it from here" but the signal here isn't even that strong.
Regardless, my mind is blank and writing this paper seems like the hardest thing in the world to do right now, so hard to focus on evolutionism and creationism, when all I really want to do is get back in my warm bed...
hmm...
It's odd seeing so many people I know and have worked with in the past not saying g'bye and hope I never have to see you again, that look in their eyes, a glare and stare hidden behind dark glasses...
I miss it but I don't. I miss it but I won't. I miss it but I can't afford to desire it, like I desire the familiar past of New Mexico mountains and sky, the night lights like flickering fireflies buzzing around so prominent like moths just asking to be killed, clapped between my hands and set free of their annoying existence... heh.