hi, so you should know right off the bat that I may get cut off any second... I'm driving through West Texas and service out here is spotty at best, but I've been listening for so long now, and I've always wanted to call in but I never really got the guts to do so, you know how it is, when you settle into that all encompassing daily routine, almost homelike, but more often than not not entirely welcoming... does that make any sense?
does it?
sometimes I wonder if the light out here changes things, not in a huge one day way, but more as a prolonged exposure to the sun's rays, roasting your thoughts, tweaking your senses, sharpening the edges around you, out in the dusty sunset along with all the bright colored insects splattered all over the windshield. I think something dark and hairy is scurrying somewhere in the rocks, or maybe it's feathery and it takes off from the side of the road.
Last night we made a careful fire up in the Morongo Valley, it crackled dangerously and spewed sparks aloft. Fortunately the wind was like a soft spoken lover, barely rustling the hairs on your arms and back... Falling asleep to the ashy embers snapping and popping seemed like the thing to do, but as soon as the night crept farther along and I finally entered REM sleep, well, I was being forced by two cops to kill someone in my dream. I'd never seen them before and yet here I was looking them in the eye and trying to figure out what would be the most decisive blow to render them harmless. It didn't feel like a nightmare at the time, but it was far from a pleasant reverie, quite the contrary, the stress levels were off the charts...
what the desert sun giveth the night time taketh away
the stray life may not be for everybody, but we're
rich when we have the whole world to walk around
out here we're dust american dust
