Been thinking on the roof again. Which means trying to imagine all people and everything that is happening at that precise moment. people making dinner, getting their prescriptions filled, swatting their kid on the butt, being miserable, being thrilled, blowing sweat off their face, daydreaming about celebrities, people wishing they had a second chance, people hacking a loogie, or holding their pee until after they've written their blog post, and on and on... for a moment the normally dull throb --that comes from knowing there is so much out there and not ever being able to grasp it --intensifies and actually hurts. ouch! broken by the incomprehensible beauty. But somehow all is forgiven and all is restored to wholeness. Om...

And then I get over my fleeting love for the status quo world and get super annoyed about Oliver’s many unlabeled jars of culinary experiments hogging the fridge, the whining dog, and the fact that ever since the movie Amelie came out I can’t try to imagine all the people having sex at the exact same time without feeling like a damn cliché.

And then O'lover plugs my ipod into the stereo premiering the running mix he made for me. The first song is Moby. And I’m reminded how it felt last night to be sucked up by the silt of Utah Lake. Dirty but real. An order of double Om, please.