i did not leave the house again as earlier intended, when the day was younger still. the book was too good and the bed warm and cozy. and now he is standing outside and left in the rain. i can look out and down, off my window, and see him standing there, in wan street light. my green old city cruiser. he's getting his wash now (the one i failed to provide).

i feel bad to see him down there, but not bad enough to get wet to get him. it is weird how here it's not even a thought i could bring and park this dude in my room. this city in many ways is so much cleaner; less rotten; so much more organized. special rooms downstairs to store the bikes. not a strip on the floor - so everfresh you could eat from it! stone walls, white and thick, no sound from the neighbors. bathrooms mold-free, and no broken tiles (everything is shinier than i had kept it in mind).

i could easily dispense with cleanliness and order. but it is here, around. i am here, in it. i keep on walking. i keep on loving (with every step i take).