time capsule

There are now nine minutes left of June 18, 2009, but I believe there are some places that still linger around April 17th, May 2nd, and June 14th. My room on  S. 15th street is a museum of time stamps in corners. Here lies, in the left corner, the pile of winter coats that I need to sort, store, and/or donate. Pictures I never bothered to hang up from the last move in December. My senior thesis lies beside my bed, ready for a face lift and a tummy tuck, but at the last minute got bumped. There are too many books I need to page through, space is limited in the luggage. Besides, something tells me I need to get reacquainted with ghosts before I can get reconnected with the living. Busy signals have been sprouting since November, but now the cord is cut.

At 12:09 A.M., June 19, 2009 I am closing my eyes and imagining the rest of this summer, the past summer, and the winter that bridged the two. I have the scripts ready, the blocking looks good, but the stage keeps changing. There's always a car barreling through the fourth wall, just at the moment when you're feeling ambitious to make it happen. And of course the actors failed to show up. If someone is behind this, they sure got a good laugh and a better production down the block. I'd believe the footage as long as they just press play. I hope they hurry because I've got revisions to make.