Right now I’m supposed to be teaching yoga to Indian Princesses, but nobody’s here so I’m stretching and now writing. I’ve just witnessed a fragile moment. I was doing the clock thing with my eyes. The one where you pretend you are inside a huge clock and you look at all the times slowly, then a little faster then far away, then up close and the room becomes very saturated with life and interesting things.

Well, at about 8 o’clock, I saw a little ant walking toward the center of the room and when I got back to 8, he wasn’t there anymore. He seemed so beautiful at the time but I knew I’d forget him if I didn’t write him down. I have witnessed many ants in commute before and not a one is particularly memorable. This bothers me. I want to remember them all.

Last night I dreamed LP had a new girl. She had the same hair as the bangy blond Kelly had picked out of Lucky magazine for her new hairdo. Her name was Erin and while I couldn’t quite make out here face, I knew she was beautiful and fun, definitely more fun than me because among other things, I’m really boring. Nicer words- still, peaceful, mad chill. I’m practicing being nicer to myself.

Anyhoo, there was a door in my dream that LP and his new girl were cryptically tallying some sort of love points on in chalk. The markings were very small but I recognized them for what they were, the beginning of falling in love. My name was at the bottom of the door in fleshed out blue and gold capital letters with all kinds of markings around it. While I was in the bathroom, I heard someone scratching at the love door. It was LP trying to erase me. This made me very sad and I felt like I was disappearing and I began to see everything from birds eye.

I just figured out how to get to AdeleStreet comments without going through all my old entries. Thank you. I don’t know what to say. I have said things to you and erased them because you are all so different I can’t clump you to in to compliments and to single you out here might run you off. You’re like a sly little cat that sneaks into the horse barn. If I pretend I don’t see you, you stay with me. If I come towards you, you run or else think the toast I put out is all I’ve got when really, I’ve got steak. Don’t run away before the steak! But do know that I love you very much and I appreciate you being with me here.

Marie Laure de Noailles watched as 500 soldiers marched through Paris and sighed, “There go 500 romances.” My little magpie, love will work out for you. I have faith in you always and if you try, and if you mean well it has to work. Don’t fear the journey and the boys that don’t match your future.


One thought on “Yoga

  1. so, this is the new crank lair (abstractions dealt with; mind materializing, what not and fuck all, yet beautiful and such) love most of yr new colors on hard things…it seems the cigarette still lingers…i wonder if yr lungs are as black as mine? certainly yr soul is, hence, the art is actualized and matters in this dreary status quo, although, the mountains that surround me (much like the walls of the formative k hole of yesteryear) are enticing, solemn, albeit dangerously looming…but i never met a devil i didn't like…so the art exists, noone sees it or cares, but everyone sees it and knows…i think they call that metaphysics, but i don't get too much into that…that joke woody allen makes concerning such, (annie hall) is fantastic…well, check it, miss franklin co., i want some motherfuckin' steak, too.
    would love to hear back from you, also, check my new works if you get a chance…much love, kenneth clayton bernhardt

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