| Another delightful Sunday de-lights itself while sleep wraps up my city. The sounds of Cowboy Bebop hit me from the next room -- my roommates are ensconced on the Klaus listening to the strange cadences of dubbed speech. I will rejoin them soon, after I take a moment to sort my day (as I am wont to do). I did not sleep until 7 am. Playing games, losing myself in the life and experience of an invented man. When I am feeling generous, I say that my dice-rolling and my dungeon-crawling are an extension of improv theatre -- just a character I create myself. Responding to situations and threats in the way I wish I could in real life -- tough, hardcore, stylish. It was a good way to spend my night. Waking. Vendors and sellers and buyers and eaters, strung along from one end of as-far-as-my-eye-could-see to the other. StyleGirl (the new roommate) and I ate and walked and tried on sunglasses, squinting into a sun looking down on my transformed street. Later, entertainment arrives in an incongruous Chevy Impala. Decadence and cold water, drunk from a pewter mug. Few things make me happier than that taste -- it makes me think of the mountains for no reason I can discern. And now Cowboy Bebop and my chosen family, in the city I think I own. Good. |
