Brilliant mice, let us alone.

4:26am.

It's impossible, I think, to get to bed at a reasonable hour. This past week I set the tired side of my face against a pillow before 1am and pulled myself onto my own two feet before the noon bell from the church could toll. It felt nice to get to work before the rest of the world had its lunch hour, and to actually get enough work done by early afternoon to sufficiently feel decent about a nap instead of avoiding it like it's going to set me behind another sixteen hours.

But, I really don't think things like that are meant to last. It's almost 5am and I've an appointment to (yeah) keep by 9am. Back to the ways things always are. It's not a bad situation by any means. However, I do wish that I could maybe someday demonstrate a keener sense of control over myself and my actions. Specifically where it relates to time; I'm almost guaranteed to screw tomorrow up pretty good.

In recent mornings the sound of the fan comes to me like a warning. I've been waking with details of dreams still lingering, without their running off back into my head before I can grasp why it is that I feel so awkward there in my bed. And of course I always give the clock a few seconds' consideration before heading back off into unconsciousness, and upon waking for the final time, I've been remembering my dreams for a few hours apiece before they fade. I'd like to say that I took notes, to jog my memory some. And maybe to sort it out later, because it's an interesting study to consider what's happening in your head without your forward consent.

But no, I didn't.

Did I mention that the Devil can hug a person so warmly that affection takes on a whole different world? Sometimes? I want to go to bed feeling that it'll be better in my dreams. But, I can't manipulate where I land so much. Once I'm there, sometimes I can make my way around things, but, well, I think the alcohol in my bloodstream acts as kind of a barrier between facts and control. And so the dreams carry on with themselves.

Here are some photographs from the recent tour I took across the country with UNWED SAILOR and SYBRIS:

Johnathon, during the late afternoon in West Palm Beach, Florida.



And then Shannon, slightly before last call in Austin, Texas.



These are two people I care care for a good deal, despite the fact that some might wish to argue that I don't feel affection for people the right way. Oh lovely. Good-night.

Yours,
JARET.