Not Rubbing My Eyes

I wrote to a friend this evening. "Someday the sun will rise on my side of the house. It has to.". Metaphors seem about as exciting as watching the hipsters in Williamsburg become hippies, which they are. It's predictable. It's expensive. It's old.

I was defeated at my own game, which is impressive. I remember the stores on South Tacoma Way I used to shop at as a child. They have been torn down to make newer strip malls with newer Chinese restaurants and newer drug stores that sell a newer selection of prescription drugs. There's no Pay N' Save anymore.

My grandmother deserves more than to be written about on a blog. So I will say nothing. But my grandfather is now in a home, and can't walk, and my grandmother is staying alone in the house. The house I grew up in. If that falls apart, everything falls apart. When you are young you think adults are indestructible, especially when they buy you a Nintendo.

I played so many "trust" games tonight, I can't remember my answers for anything.

I am still waiting for other answers.

I am sleepy.

I am sleeping?

I am crawling into bed, hoping to remember things I have lost.

Nothing is as good as this, nothing is as endless.

I don't really like pudding all that much and I drink most drinks through a straw. Any drink if I can.

Someday the sun will set on my side of the house. I hope I'm home when it happens.