Did I mention Bird gave me a T shirt and some socks yesterday? So It is only the trousers now. What is it, six days? In these trousers? And spotty black and white boxers? Which are Phill's, I doiscovered last night. And he'd worn then for eight days before I picked them up. Pretty amazing, right? Right. It was good to see Phill last night. I didn't feel at all sick in his company. I am feeling a bit sick now. I don't know why. Well, I have a vague idea. I turned that idea into a song. It is a good song. It takes up 6 pages of my notebook, and in my head lie the notes and the beats, and someday soon I'll be able to make them real, along with all the others that are backed up in my pad and my wet brain.

It is funny to me to think of how far I have traveled, to get to this point, where I appear to be in basically the same position I was when I first left home, way back in '96.

Sofa to sofa. Floor to floor. Wander the streets all day, and a lot of the night. Writing on corners. Borrowing deoderant. Living in the same clothes, hammering socks, losing my glasses, not changing my contact lenses. Feeling furtive. And cumbersome. In the way. And lonesome.

"Moon River Wider than the mile I'll be crossing you in style Some day We're af Ter The same Rain Bow's end. How come It's just around the bend It's always just around The Bend."

So I walk the streets and I sing to myself, composing silly ditties as I marvel at the city and the girls and all the children and the men.

My stomach lurches about, and my heart soars and swoops, and if I ever stop to catch my breath, get an idea of my surroundings, I get giddy, and I have to sit down. I always said:

"Just get on with it."

And later, I took from Bruce Lee:

"Don' think - feeel."

Up in their great buildings, men argue Me. As them. And as they do, I shall sit my ass down on a fire hydrant somewhere on this Lower East Side that has come to feel so warm and familiar to me, and I will write another song. I feel it bubbling in my gut, and all it needs is the hum of the traffic and the people and the years to become a thing that is Real.