A Blogovella by Ezzie Dryar (Anne Martin)

3. Streams


Streams – StreamS of consciousness – few of us have only one at a time, constantly jumping from stream to stream, it’s lunchtime and I’m hungry, but I’m sitting here writing instead, I was up late last night working, and I’m so tired right now; I’d like to go back to bed, but it’s 1 pm and I’m pouring out the nectar of my streams for you – just touched on three that I’ve got going in my head – that’s three in addition to the usual one, the S-word, but the point of a stream of consciousness write is to take one on and concentrate on it alone, not pausing, not allowing yourself to deviate, but I deviate all the time, as you can see, just thought about that S-word again, listening to some music right now made me think of a friend of mine, wishing he was here because I’d like to talk to him right now – maybe I’ll phone him when I’m done with this – I’m a little down, don’t know why, and he always picks me up, just being with him, hearing his voice, I wonder what he’s doing right now, probably eating some lunch, like I should be, see how those streams keep coming back, dipping in and out; I’m not very good at sticking to one at a time, not like him – he’s so goddamn focused all the time, even while he procrastinates – I’m scatterbrained, probably because I’m always multitasking, thinking of one thing and doing another, I need to have him look at my computer again, since it’s been playing up lately, it’s my work and unfortunately my life, as I sit here alone in my office, contemplating streams, streams of thought, even streams of water, dipping my toes in on a warm summer day, splashing around, remembering long ago when he and I splashed around together, ahh, that brings me back to the S-word, you know I resolved not to use it this time, but I might have well have since I’ve mentioned it at least three times, I’m not going count them because I’m not allowed to look back, I’m still thinking about it, though, and that mountain stream in the sun of Colorado – those were the days, happy days, today’s days can be happy, too, when he’s around – I’m probably embarrassing him, too, as he will undoubtedly read this, and turn beet red as he does when he blushes, and he blushes easily, back to that stream, and lunch, yes, and of course (I lied) SEX.


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