drive in drive out

this playlist has become an obsession.

the last ninety days, the perfect songs, the flow, using every available moment and I've gone through five discs trying. (see, sometimes it sounds fine until the sleepdriving test, and then it fails miserably). and as it completes itself, after tearing home and throwing down my keys to rearrange the order before it leaves me, I am struck by my surroundings.

I'm making mix tapes. really good ones. in my own apartment. while I read the website that I am writing and look at the pictures I am taking. I have arrived and it is truly, utterly and completely all happening. because a year ago right now, it was the best I could do to think - just think, because I didn't speak aloud about things that shook me so - am I where I'm supposed to be? and today the only question is this: is it all out there, as best as I can manage? and I answer with a resounding yes - a hell yes, if you will. because now, there's really no other way to be. not any more. I've lost my virginity again, and I'm not going back.

on a side note, I had a dream last night that rudyard kipling's name was in the opening credits of the brady bunch as producer or director or something. maybe it's the extra hole in my head.