Good night moon, Good night city

Just sitting here, eating a leftover half of  an avocado with a spoon.  Listening to a new mixed CD at 12:56 am.

Its been a long day, evidenced by the state of my bedroom and the little heaps of clothes in various corners. Each heap a soft monument telling the story of where Ive been and what Ive done on this particular Thursday. A connect the dots leading to the last and final heap of converse, jeans, and a  sweater for nighttime in the city. My sweater a bit coffee scented from the splashing I gave myself trying to chug a coffee pre-Bazan concert.  Sitting here feels like the first time Ive stopped moving today. I am so very exhausted but not quite ready to crawl into bed, I need to take a couple decompressing breathes. So here I sit hands on little black keys.

Nothing  really at all to say tonight, other than sometimes life is far too good to me. So good I worry that its all a big trick, and the joke will be on me and my naiveté for buying into all that beauty. Trick or not, tonight I am pure worn out from lifes good intentions. Its large helpings of love.  And glad that sometimes, perhaps most times, when you pray for something you will find yourself in the midst of what you’ve asked for. You’ll find yourself standing there, looking up through the San Francisco skyline wondering if you are more elated by the sheer existence of what you’ve asked for, or more so that someone somewhere out there, heard your little voice? Your little voice among the billions of other voices, somehow they heard it and knew it was yours. wow.

So thank you, for hearing.