The days are drifting good weather and walking through light industry has me mesmerized.

Tonight I feel alone. I seem to be able to hear the echoes of my own thoughts.

Lazy morning reading true crime novel (underbelly) and lulling to and fro from sleep

I worked last night that I need to write as an outlet for my chaotic thoughts. It seems to get intense when I am alone for long periods. I so miss chatting and philosophizing with people. But when I write it seems to exercise the need I have to get these thoughts out of my skull. It makes them real and clearer.

I have been missing Mim a lot even though I talk to her most nights. It is only one sleep and a couple of naps and she will be home.

Mim and I just moved into a love nest together. Then as if by magic she was gone in a flash to the desert on a holiday. I long to hold her close to me and feel her breath on my neck.

I have been walking a lot and thinking. Sometimes I think people must see me walking at weird times in strange places and think I’m homeless. I am not sure whether I truly achieved hobo chic. I am close without even trying, I haven’t shaved for a couple of weeks, I wear an old army jacket, torn pants and no shoes. I don’t go out of my way to look homeless it just happens that way.

Wearing no shoes seems to become a talking point so easily. “Aren’t you cold?” “-No.” I have been doing it so long it just seems natural. I went to Sydney a couple of weeks ago and could not see one person shoe less. Which made me wonder, how rich must the shoe companies be?

Just a thought.

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~ by abagash on September 11, 2004.

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