I went out last night for kicks... stayed by the waiting shed located a block far away for a few fucking worthwhile minutes. Dunno if it was just me & my hazy-mindedness or that evening being surreal. The sky was perfect... dark &, uh, can't remember if it was starry. The air was cold, breezy, tranquil... yet smoke-laced. ARGH. Hooray for burning dry leaves & yard trash. The basketball court was empty, which was a relief; the dogs were for some odd reason "off-duty" with their straying. So it was just a perfect, perfect 10pm setup in our li'l laidback commune. I even walked home after getting myself a dose of highly-prized zagu - an activity I LEAST consider doing ever since we moved here. I then hurriedly informed almost everybody in my 426 contact list about that scene... how I was feeling goddamned sappy... how *sigh* I wish I had a friend who lives here, too... how it was such a "hand-painted-sky" night. I took one last look & breath standing out there. Then I walked back home, straight up into my room.
I lay silently in bed for a while, taking things easy, thinking about nothing & everything all at once. I decided to get up & sit at the porch, & savored the stillness outdoors. Instantly I began to feel longing pangs for my childhood homestead. Life was so much better pondering by the streets back then & there. However, I'm grateful that I've lived this long to be HERE now. So much has changed, all right, but I guess it's better that way.