fall down.

and i could write a library about cities but i think i'd rather have just one book about how it feels to know only like five people and to be calm and quiet all the time. (sometimes.) cuz you know how we love these giant sprawling contexts and the feel of asphalt spinning under our feet, but i wonder if our whiskey-soaked salutations do more than stick us in line sometimes. what about dirt and grass and sitting still? what about rows of dull (so real) houses with cracking paint and crooked doors and beautiful rainy streets? the scenery blurs anyway when life's such a rush, such a trip. i want to fall backwards and stare at the stars with room to wiggle my toes, with no commitments (no parties!). really mostly i just want to take off these poor tattered shoes for once, ever at all, even when i sleep.