The phone was ringing so I woke up. From the unfamiliar sound of bells, it was obvious that it was not my cell phone (always left on silent) nor was it my computer, leaving the house phone as culprit.
Slowly shaking the sleep off, I reached for the fat receiver across the table and answered, unprepared for the fragile voice on the other end to drone with her message for my parents. I then walked out through the kitchen and down the driveway to the mailbox, where the sun quickly became an enemy.
Before all of this, a reconnection with an old friend and a much needed telephone call with a newer one took place. J decided that, being so ‘progressive’ and ‘experimental’ I should begin a legitimate blog, since sex, drugs, and being a teenager in a city sells. I decided it would read like Gorilla vs. Bear meets Hipster Runoff, which is really what Hipster Runoff has become, with maybe a dash of The Fast Life and Jacuzzi Killers, and until that changes there is no reason for me to add to the madness of the internet.
Today I want to become less cloudy and color everything more beautiful. I want to see what things look like through your eyes. Please, please, please.
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Jim Whimpey.
