Sitting in the MotorBeast, which I have decided after careful consideration to name Falkor II.
11:00pm, Thursday evening. I sit comfortably on the benches that I left, thanks entirely to friends – Bobzilla, DangerAngel, Indira. Folded warmth underneath for a bit of softness on my 20” plank of a bed until it’s built up, beautiful pillows which match perfectly the way I want this to be, the picture of my Grandma Dot always present, looking at me. I got the gas lamp working, and though it sheds little light, I love the beauty of it too much not to have it on when I am in here, when it is dark. Warms the place up a little to, and acts with the low wattage heater that I bought to keep me comfortable. This is a beautiful home, all alone, all mine to do with what I wish.
Still, so much to do. I need to get it running. I need to find a cheap pair of decent computer speakers, as though I love the clarity the headphones I have give me, I don’t like having my ears covered – and the computer speakers pretty much aren’t worth a damn.
I need to paint the inside, which perhaps I will begin tomorrow. A friend came by a while ago with some flat black but I need some sheen, and recently bought some semi-gloss, just trying to figure out what to paint black and what to leave alone until I find the deep red that I want to accent it. Or – fuck – I think of a room I had which I painted a beautiful deep red with black accents. I’ll figure it out tomorrow, or tonight.
Actually, I just figured out what I will do. Cool. It will be perfect. I’m good at this shit.
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The light rain falls on the Oaks, gathers from leaf to leaf and slides down each, the drops grow, combine like mercury, and in their heaviness fall onto my home, my Beast, My Dragon – my home. I think when I finally get this thing running it will be the rain that I chase – or maybe put a showerhead hanging over it, as this, this is more beauty than I could ever describe, the symphony of raindrops falling on my roof, a cigarette, some bourbon, some music and some words. This is what I’m doing tonight – I’m celebrating.
Work has been scarce these days, but recently some decent things have come in – a job smaller than I thought, but a good possibility working as a handyman for the man who began the Green Tortoise empire – I call him back on Saturday, and it sounds good.
I watch the raindrops slide down my front windshield, and I need to pause for a moment or a thousand, because I’m busy writing, not appreciating all that is going on around me.