matt pond PA

September 6, 2017

Transcendental Cynicism 2.

Today is promising. There are zero root canals on my to-do list and I’m a shirtless king.

Chris is coming over after he gets done working for Sally. He’ll probably text me at around three-thirty. He’ll show up exactly at seven.

We haven’t worked on a song together in a while. (I’ve been awkwardly trying to piece the arc of an album together. And he’s been awkwardly building the foundation for a family.)

We’ll get awkward together tonight.

Sometimes in the fog of consciousness, I visit faraway lighthouses on rocky perches. Briny air, plenty of scotch. The lighthouse-keepers love and hate me exactly how I want to be loved and hated. And I love and hate them back, with everything I’ve got.