Ahh... Gusty, warm nights in October. I'm set to walk over to the cafe on 22nd street and make a plan (pitch a plan - is more like it) to the very sweet German girl who works there. I saw her on the street today, and she told me to come by her work at eight - when she finishes - and it seemed to be hummin'.
But now... Ah, confidence, bluster, swagger, bullshit... Where do they go?

I've noticed no one writes LOVE STUFF on Blogger; at least in our little camp. It's not the greatest, this "boy meets girl" thing. Not the most interesting story out there. My back is sore for some reason. It's that tired-sore that always seems to suggest psychosomaticality. I'm trying to figure out if my loss of mojo to go hang with this girl stems from my own depleted energies from working, or some "worm hole" of the moods I unwittingly crawled into.
Or, if it's something coming from her; a shift in her consciousness. Life is not in a vacuum. I wish I could just lie down on a hardwood floor.