The Wanderer

After tromping around Brooklyn ("tromping" being the bastard child of "traipsing" and "stomping") in a miniskirt, huffing my Gucci for men arms and blasting Johnny Cash, I must say that while I am pretty satisfied with my goings-on for this week, I wonder when it will hit me - this ton of bricks, this heavy-handed backslap of loneliness.

Does it ever hit? How do you even know when you are lonely? I suppose I'm not. Breathe easy.

Iron & Wine's "Naked As We Came":

She says wake up it's no use pretending
I'll keep stealing breathing her
Birds are leaving over Autumn's ending
One of us will die inside these arms

Eyes wide open
Naked as we came
One will spread our
Ashes round the yard

She says if I leave before you darling
Don't you waste me in the ground
I lay smiling like our sleeping children
One of us will die inside these arms

Eyes wide open
Naked as we came
One will spread our
Ashes round the yard

2005-09-24 | 5:14 p.m.

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