fireworks in lowercase

july 4 2014

the fireworks are out there somewhere, and so am i, i suppose.  i can't open this overpriced bottle of beer--it has a cork in it.   do i need an actual bottle opener?  do i even need a beer?

it's getting darker, but it's not dark yet.  the fireworks continue to make the sky pop with colors, as they usually do.  all the people watch, but i'm not even looking out my window.  i've seen it all before, the colors and the big kerouac sky spiders. pink and blue phosphenes, little vision birthmarks you can only get from the sky when you close your eyelids.  i'm still trying to get this bottle opened.

an hour ago i walked to my car off monument st.  i had left my pot in the trunk, so i walked out there.  it was a block from a free concert, too, and I met up with billy who was there.  i don't know him well, but he was still the same nasally, dry billy i'd known before, but just drunker and dryer.  we have work together tomorrow, but he is drinking and now so do i.  when i asked him for a beer from his backpack, he offered me the one he was drinking.  

the band played and i didn't listen to them.  i spent my time sitting in the grass and looking at what surrounds me, at all the kinda-sad buildings and the not-so-happy people that comprise the tableau of my neighborhood.  the ground and the monuments and the sky and the foreign feeling of belonging somewhere all fit together clumsily.  sean talked to his friends about dancing and riding his bike to vegan cafes.

the definition for seasonal depression implies that a case of depression is onset by any given season, not just winter--but who ever blames their depression on summertime?  no one ever says 'i am stricken--there is just too much daytime and warmth.'  it's just a thought.  

i am not depressed, but it is easy to say that something is usually always wrong.  right now i am just accepting that things are that way.  things are always wrong.  it's liberating, like beer.

i am not watching the fireworks.  there is nothing wrong with that.

i got the bottle opened.  i know it cost too much money, but so do fireworks.  i liked the name of the bottle--ephémeré, with two accents.  i still don't know how to pronounce it, but maybe i will want to name my daughter one day.

some people just need to feel like this, others choose to.  i'd say most are unprofoundly in the middle.