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I walk around when I'm high (place)
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junkpile
Wed Aug 02 2000 at 6:51:39
I tried to get Albert to come with us but
he says he doesn't do pot.
Don't say Do Pot, I say.
Pot is not an activity
in and of itself. It is a noun. Be accurate, say
Smoke Pot
. Be silly, say
Take the Pot
. But
do not be my grandma
and say Do Pot. She says Do a Peepee, too.
So it is just Skyler and me walking around the parking lot. When we came around the corner I did not like it at first because I was making the mistake of
trying to accomplish the sidewalk
, trying to get it all behind me,
trying to finish it
. The sidewalk runs in a rectangle and as soon as we finish one side of it and I think I have gotten something done, there is another side to start. This of course leads to bad thought process about our own personal versions of hell and whether I have been caught in mine early, is this a preview of the ghastly endless treading waiting for me? At last I have the sense to say something out loud and Skyler says
No no no stop it with the hell talk
, so I do, it's that easy.
The parking lights are impressive, poles that spear way up
perpendicular to gravity
without toppling
. I watch their tops from a distance and I inspect their bases up close. Around the lights are
seething clouds of insects
and I think it was very thoughtful of someone to put these lights up to distract the bugs from eating us.
There is
an excellent rhythm to walking
a silent sidewalk high. Skyler does not want to talk and neither do I, I have a slight nag about something but it is easy to shake when I sink into the rhythm of foot forward, swing, foot forward.
My machine is a good one
, my counter-weights keep me moving forward and upright, this was a good plan all around.
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