Small and big

So I put on my p.j.s for what will probably be one of the last chilly nights of the year. Or should I say mornings. It's 3:06 a.m. I am listening to a bootleg recording of Joanna Newsom in Sydney. The world is quiet.

At night I sit outside and smoke. I sometimes listen to the neighborhood noises, or there might be some loud youngsters across the street in the parking lot behind the nightclubs. But mostly I listen to music and play solitaire on my ipod.

I have had many revelations while playing solitaire and listening to music and smoking. Sometimes I lose myself in the game and root for suits like I'm at a sporting event, playing and replaying those games with the potential to win. And whichever suit's the last to be placed has special significance. And a win is even more significant if I got it after numerous tries. These game lessons are sometimes implied as life lessons.

Sometimes I have revelations about actions I need to accomplish, or qualities I want to incorporate, or I have ideas about ways to do something.

Sometimes I just vegetate.

I fill myself with smoke.

I remember something stupid or smart that I said, and I wince or smile accordingly. And that memory is quickly forwarded into another. Sometimes I am able to stand at a vantage point and look down, or up, at my movie of memories, which unrolls ceaselessly, impervious to my attention or inattention.

When I come inside, my cat sometimes (usually when it's cool) perches on me. She's perching on me now.

It's 3:16 a.m...