Found Notebook Entry of 10/13/08

MAINE - you came back!

A year ago I slept here. Northernmost; though, cold too and silent; to this extent it fueled the sleepless. But just to say "this was" is a triumph. To lay claim to a past that will not allow "this is": a triumph. To the movement now. Not once I swore unworthy, I hope only for these, striped with my affection. My indifference to the roundabout has solidified. My circles won't be spoken because I don't have anything to teach yet.

I slept under a touch of paper and bites from one familiar mouth. I slept under warnings of frequent masturbation and a bucket of ear plugs. I stood and preached my moment to a spectator who was, and drank myself into rest. The unanimity is untouched now; we will never have a falling out.

I blazed down their spines, promised many abstract notions: "remember to remember me." It seemed an easy chaos then, but to return would incite wounds once more. I haven't the time nor the will to reshuffle opinions of me in all these fastidious bones. All I can do is hope I never meant as much as I thought & humble myself before tantamount stretches of time.

This indulgence of such a strange urge is a gift. Someday I won't have enough energy to transcribe my thoughts as I do, to gratify my own whims in language. This too is a triumph. I can sit and detach and make something. I'm winning now, but I'm subject to change.