You know that part in "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere" when the voices rise up like wind in a really nasty fight with itself, and there is a beat that no one has named? When the words, that periodically give way to "woo-we" and "woa-ho," send you flopping on the floor no longer searching for completion because that is it right there? That's what I don't feel like. I skipped my classes Monday. That was nice. Around four in the morning the air got close, like it was watching me. Outside was empty except for the dead leaves, all crunchy and wondering why they'd ever grown at all, and there weren't too many of them either. Every cigarette was better than the last. I did some cooking and stared at the walls, which have round corners that flop down from the ceiling like a trench coat hanging close to the floor. Time as measured by the clock passed quickly, but my mind couldn't tell. At times like these I feel like I've been left by people who have no use for me right then but will come by to pick me up when they get the chance. Not much to do but wait.

Then the sun came up around seven, and some dense orange light poured out of a hole in the sky onto the clouds. It looked more like something that ought to be reported along with the weather than it did like a sunrise. I remembered going to the harbor one night in Annapolis to watch the sunrise, but I still can't remember if I was still there when dawn came that day or not.

We don't see very many things from day to day, but we don't notice this. It doesn't occur to us, because we don't ask ourselves if we're doing anything new. If we did we'd be really bored. I want to buy a house in upstate New York with friends and record songs in my basement. They'd all be songs of transport, not the public kind, more like the rapture kind. Anyone want to go? It's cheap up there, I swear, because in upstate New York you don't need to eat. The air brings you all the nutrition you need. If you want tobacco, there's tobacco. You want liquor, so too, there's liquor. The trees are happy to have you up there, they're so fine to everyone that they pay you just to be. Body of water called the Hudson Bay, and also the Hudson River. Your spit freezes before it leaves your mouth, it's great. We don't have to go to Woodstock if you don't want to go to Woodstock, that's all up to you. Don't tell me yes or no right now, just nod if you feel it.