fragmented notes on a peculiar morning

I was up as dawn broke in the weird ethereal blue.  It is and was freezing.  They are really going nuts with nail guns on the construction site up the street.  It seemed dumb to put up a house in winter, with the threat of snow in the mountains.  There was no snow to speak of this Winter.  California is in its worst drought since 1849.

Right now I am thinking of Ian, the poor dear.  He lived in Japan and attended a meeting I had in Culver City.  He brought his sister, who was far too happy to be at a meeting for us poor mentally ill-labeled folks.  I don't know why I mention him.  He was thin with an adam's apple, had trouble speaking, and then later had some huge party out in Long Beach.  I usually avoid parties, around here.  They were fine in the NW, but something about going to one in the sun in anything even having anything remotely to do with Los Angeles makes me feel like I want to escape into some dark corner, crouching there without muttering or thinking, but rather just taken aback.  Maybe, I should make this post about parties.  I don't know.  Right now all I remember was seeing my friend Rhea again, except she had adopted a New Way of Talking which was downright annoying.  I tried to pay attention, then I left, kind of wondering what the problem was.  I ran into her in a cafe before she left for France.  She had dropped The Way of Talking, gave me a big hug and chatted.  So, no problem I guess.

I was never one of the cool people when I was younger.  Maybe I was without knowing.  I stood aloof, drank beer because I got socially anxious and nervous around people, was capable of making up some really bad jokes.  I cared, for some reason.  Like I was really going to be held accountable years later for something I said at some party when those people don't talk to each other any longer.

Hmm.  Birds are out on the pines.  I can see my breath in the small movements of cold wind.  There is something I have to remember in the back of my head.  Just live.  Who cares about the rest.  Whatever happens comes towards and sometimes through a person, what does not just leaves and hopefully flutters away gently like those helicopter seeds that fall from trees.

The coffee is really terrible.  I would make an analogy, but I'll spare you people the details.  I am sure we are all familiar with bad coffee.  It jars instead of waking you up with a glow, it is labor everywhere in the body but especially weirdly around the teeth.  It's trying to say something somehow, like a vial of ink might suggest that it is full of letters, but more to the point, it socks a person in the gut.  I hate for it to stow away.  I bought a soda for the first time in awhile.  It made me forget the coffee.