and i still hope to be some kind of maybe adult like shannon

i'm in one of those messed-up moods where i convince myself for the time being that all i want to do for the rest of my life is lie in bed with someone for whom i have affection and we can watch the light out the window change hues and intensity as we age through the day and we can eat breakfast foods and baked goods that go well with tea in bed and we'll leave crumbs in the bed and listen to records on stereo and watch the forms of our legs beneath the sheets shift and undulate and curl into letter formation and we'll feel clean and unfettered and lightweight even maybe, not even heavy with the sleep we share

or

i could lie in my bed all hours on my own, alone perhaps, listening to mark kozelek's voice forever and reading stories yes stories all morning, until mid afternoon, in bed, getting the edges of the pages wet and salty

and i might eat toast with orange marmalade (is all marmalade orange? i forget.) and imagine in my head lovely scenes and pictures of exotic seeming creatures like marmosets and ibexes doing the day to day rituals which take place in various kingdoms

or i might just lie on the floor, reeling.

i don't know what it is.