think about nothing for awhile, maybe. breed my hysteria to be soft edged and docile, tailor my panic to be quiet and nocturnal. i don't have any physical ailments, except for some muscle tightness, congenital skeletal deformation, etc. so, really, it shouldn't be hard. cut apples and feed the cores to the chickens, sleep on the floor next to the dog. start in a spot of sun on the carpet and wake up once the sun has moved.

went to the park last night. played with other people's dogs. walked to jason's apartment and sat on his couch with renee. people came and went, drank his beer, laughed, talked very loudly. his shirt says peace and content-ment, contentment is split with a hyphen because his chest isn't broad enough to fit it all on one line, and is the reason i like that shirt, which he has owned since we met, i must have been seventeen.

the dog is sliding off her pillow in a way that would have been funny a few years ago, but now just reminds me how delicate her old body is, how old i am becoming, and how i feel like i've got nothing to show for it except a black mark on my mouth. big dark spot that stains everything i want to talk about