mud. crows.

last night: muddy in unexpected places.

frustration at two disparate social situations, leading to a hasty exit from both, predictably more intoxicated than before i entered. also predictably more frustrated. the night was unwinding far faster than i thought it would, with a rare and unexpected turn directly after work, away from the bar. so suddenly, of course, it was much later than i thought it was.

then, of course, in a desperate effort to get a grasp on the slippery rope of time, i ended up with two red bulls in my stomach. a wire coiled, uncoiled, inside of me. i clenched my fists, intermittently. there was a party: people stood on the patio, shadowed by the fog that had rolled in early. the dim spark and suckling sound from a bowl being passed around. the muted clink of beer bottles against one another: secret victories unknown to me.

the eventual departure, the walk back. not chilly. the air, damp, near-prickly to the skin. the declaration of the all-nighter, fueled by more of the same, whatever we could get, devolving into, lapsing into silence. this, followed by my announcement of departure. questioned querulously, but my resolve was firm. and so, the weird walk home, at four in the morning.

>>

this morning, on my walk to where i am now, i saw a crow astride the crumbling corner of a brick building. i kept my eye on it and it kept its eye on me, even as i passed and walked backward down the sidewalk.

felt like if i looked away first, i'd be in some trouble.