One thing I dream about often is my fish leaping out of the aquarium and flopping on the floor. I run to pick one of them up, and notice that there are fish kind of everywhere, in the corners, under the sofa. As I’m scooping them up and plopping them back into the water, I realize that I’ve got dozens and dozens of aquariums all over the house, and I’ve neglected them terribly. The water is dark and murky and half gone, and the fish are all sick and dying, and they’re beautiful- amazing, rare specimens that I can’t believe I’d forgotten all about and it makes me feel how you’d imagine.
Also, once I get them back in the water they tend to just kind of float up out of the water again and drift through the air and I have to push them back under water or they’ll die.
Of course I know they’re all going to die anyway after all that trauma.
But I have to try.
I’m going out into the woods again. One more day I don’t have to work, I’ma spend it out of doors.
Coffee is hot and dark and strong this morning. And, shit, can I do me some art or what.
Run and tell that, home boy.