Fistraftions

I sit on a train for roughly three or four hours a day, depending on the time and station. Lately, I lose more time in a car as I race ahead to catch a train further ahead of my usual station in Mountain View. The extra mileage has caused me to get into mileage debt on my leased car. I suspect I’ll have to stop driving for a month and catch the bus in order to reduce the deficit and build a surplus again. This is the way I think now, the least interesting narrative. I could skip ahead to the topic of writing a book while on the train, but it’s just writing and it’s only interesting to me and maybe half a dozen others. I need to stop losing so much time in the car so I can spend it on a train, writing.

I thought about love briefly the other day. I used to avoid it but now I’m as numb to it as the idea of Venetian blinds. It’s odd because I certainly see representations of it often enough. It doesn’t come up often as a conscious topic. I thought about the last time I was in love, then the last time I had sex, the latter of which is a more common consideration. It’s still summer in practice and everyone’s wearing their summer clothes. Lots of bare legs. I think, I have eyes with which to see.

The last coyote I saw in person emerged from the brush near the recycling plant at Bayshore and had a pronounced limp on a front leg. It looked grizzled. It may have arrived via the Golden Gate Bridge but will never leave.

The last dog I interacted with ran along the on-ramp to the 101 at Belmont. I and one other driver tried and failed to use our cars to corral the dog toward the exit to safety, and I pulled over to try and do something but ultimately accomplished zilch. I got back into my car and drove onto the freeway only to see the dog’s body on the farthest lane to the left where a driver had struck it. If I did all I could, I would be there too.

Laziness pervades everything. Outside of the prescribed hours of productivity, I want to eat and I want to sleep. Even a video game is far too much effort. I can take two weeks to re-center, but what is the center? The core is a ball of yarn. I feel I need to unravel it, but only carefully and as laziness allows. And then, of course, there’s just a loose bundle of yarn to contend with.

I must make a new video or two this weekend to remain on schedule. My backlog is depleted. The Simpsons had only two games on the Commodore Sixty-Four. Only one on the Zed-Ex Spectrum. These should be easy enough to produce. But a heat wave rolls in this weekend and mania will urge me to leave the house. Who will I see? What will I say? I suppose the mystery is compelling.