I part the curtain and look outside, there is water dripping from the leaf to the dirt. And there is water dripping from the leaf to the metal door to the basement. There are a couple old lawn chair in the back yard but they are full of leaves.
By this I mean I didn't do much today.
The items are taken down from the top shelf. They are placed on the bed. Some smaller things are taken out of boxes and put into a slender plastic container that fits under the bed. Some of the smaller objects get put in the trashcan that is rolled out to the curb. I think the garbage truck is coming by right now.
I think about you and sit on the couch. I eat a few noodles from the pan with a plastic fork. There is half a clothes pin on the desk, the metal clip is under the desk clasped around the other part of the clothespin.
Corn still hasn't come back, this is a picture of him on top of a microwave on a cloud: 
Right now I have been trying to stay cammo in everyday life, so that most people don't know I write or do anything like that. Alot of social interaction is a satire of itself. Over and over again. Sometimes I get scared and over react. But most of the time it is alot of jokes one after the other, and they aren't funny jokes. They are kind of fucked up and offensive but everyone keeps laughing, because there is nothing else to do.
Mostly I find myself gravitate towards people involved in daily life without art or creation or any of that. Well, there is creation, but it is different and less intended. Like when someone catches a linedrive from forty feet away, and they are defending themselves by catching the ball that is moving towards them.
Sometimes it seems like the garbage can is full after one piece of garbage. Then, after that all the rest of the garbage just repels from the garbage can to the floor around the garbage can. I miss you, you know that, right? I mean I know we haven't seen that much of each other lately, if at all. And it is meaningful to me that you are somewhere else right now.
