you are asleep.

i just rode my bike uphill at 2:30am. the world is different now. it's both scarier and calmer. i'm scared because i feel vulnerable. but then, it's nice to have the streets to myself, to fantasize that everyone else has disappeared and i no longer have to obey red lights, or stay in the right lane. that thought is also scary, from a sci fi movie or the bible.

and things look empty, but also like they're resting. i biked past the library. i was just there a few hours ago, but now it's asleep. the buses: asleep.

i thought biking would wear me out so i could fall asleep. eli said, "it tires the body, but wakes up the mind." he was right. even my eyelids are tired. i like quizzing everyone at work about their sleeping schedules, since i'm not used to working a bar shift. some of them sleep until 2pm and don't care. others, like me, wish they could wake up earlier.

i'm letting tk lick me because i'm salty from the sweat. he likes to lick me when i'm sweaty and when i'm fresh out of the shower, for some reason. when he was a kitten, he licked me all the time. i'd hop from one foot to the other while i got dressed because if i stood still, he's lick me. i'd lift me legs off the ground while i was on the toilet.

i will go to bed in a few minutes, even though my mind is awake. i'll crawl under the covers with my lady and she'll make adorable sleep noises. then in three hours it'll be opposite. she'll be waking up and getting ready to leave for work and i'll make the sleep noises. even though i'll want to be awake to say goodbye, my body will force me to stay lying down. a heavy fog of sleepiness.

but now that's hard to imagine.

i want to be writing this on my typewriter, but i can't, because i'd wake everybody up. if this were my typewriter, i'd have a lot more things to say. about my mother, mostly. and myself. and how we're connected and not connected.

on saturday idil and i went to vashon island. it was pouring down rain, but we went anyway. it was funny because we drove all the way out to this lighthouse for a scenic view and when we got there, we just sat in the car for a moment. she said, "uh...heh, do you want to get out and see it?" and i said, "ummm...suuurree...well, it's just that--" she said, "i feel like we SHOULD go see it, but i don't want to!" i said, "haha, me either! i don't want to go see it!" so we just laughed and sat there and saw the scenic view from the car.

but it was nice to talk. i told her about everything, about about how i feel about myself these days, which isn't great. she told me about her saturn returns class and about internalized sexism and what that all has to do with our mothers.

i realized that i don't really know my mother. then i realized that i don't know if anyone knows my mother. and a lot of other things that made me feel sad, humble, and human.

but , to make a long story shorter so i can go to bed now, it all came down to:

we are all trying to survive. it is easier to have compassion for others than for myself. we are all doing the best we can.