The weekend before last was worse than most weekends, save a few.
There was a party and a fight. Cops talked to me. It was Jimmy’s birthday.


This past weekend was better than that last weekend.
There was no party and the person to fight with is gone for now. It is not Jimmy’s birthday anymore.


The weekends that I remember before that bad weekend are nothing. They are bad because they are nothing. I classify the weekends between June 1st and November 1st to be bad and nothing.

These weekends were not just bad in themselves, they rotted or something.

That last weekend just exploded.


Then the absence of the explosion was peaceful. Also the absence of nothing was a releif.

There were things in my lawn that stunk, people to invite for dinner, the day of the dead procession, bagels with pesto, Capote, the diaries of Klee, thank goodness.

We sort of yelled and were sour then we took showers and went out.

I bought some books.
Jimmy drove.

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