Geese flying overhead at dawn. They call to each other and their voices are like ancient souls, speaking in an ancient tongue, calling from the great beyond. Puts me in a wistful mood. It's the same when I hear a train whistle. Time. Going by. The sun is behind clouds. The streets are dark, it's cooler here, a big storm last night banished the heat. I'm in a foreign place, drinking someone else's coffee, typing on someone else's keyboard, listening to John Cale's "Vintage Violence," the full album via You Tube. Cale is my latest rage. All of his work speaks to me. A couple days ago, I rifled through my CD collection and pulled out all the old Cale records I own. Is anyone better than John Cale in all his various guises? I think not.
Slept well. It happens often when I'm sleeping in someone else's place. Better mattress, better pillows, quieter. There is an element of "being on vacation," vacation from my normal routine. I hear on the radio this morning, that it might be better to be "lazy," a slower metabolism might mean a longer life. Live a Sluggish Life! Funny. I am constantly stoking my metabolism with coffee, hyping myself up, working myself into a lather. Often I am just an aimless ball of energy looking for something to do. What a life.
Some days you feel totally in the stream, in the middle of the stream, flowing along with the day, other times, you feel like you are on the shore, on the sidelines, lurking, sort of invisible to the day. Today has that invisible kind of feel. I could disappear into the ether at any moment and no one would notice. Falling into the Great Unknown. The Great Unknowing. A Sluggish Life.