seated on an invisible sill

so, it's thursday, what am i doing with this creative space in an around me? it's like i'm waiting to get out, waiting for my ride to take me away to the southwest where i can help others with their projects and learn skills in the process. is this waste?
today i pay attention to the newspaper, food, emptying my messy room, reading about multilateral international organizations, and suzy coming in the later afternoon.
i'm also thinking about matt. thinking about our deep love that i smile with. ohh, that's sweet.
listening to the sound of a typewriter, quite old, and my fathers feet, his socks quietly shifting the rug as he moves skillfully around his office, i sit in his office, golf on the walls though he doesnt like golf. we're fitting in here. maybe. i feel ultra-wierdo whenever i'm at this house, in this strange town of rich people. i grew up in the blanket of dollars. now, i have few. no more blanket, but interestingly, i'm warmer than i've been ever before.
good light to feel. wonder if anyone ever happens upon this.
love, anyway.