No matter the time of day we're* pretty much all here for the same thing*.
*By "we" presently I mean New Orleanians. Because that's my current point of reference.
By "thing" I mean carnival.
And in the meantime, I have a new gig.** Which will shoot me straight out of here. And then back again whirling slightly above carnival and frenchman just out of the in focus / in field viewing stands.**
** star that for later, nah I'll just tell you now, in short story format.
There's a lady, I believe her to dine with the rulers of the stars. I listen, apply, take lessons, share more than I should. And so? Well you know how I feel about the moons & mercury can we please? svp?
So at 8:18 (we'll call it a.m. or p.m. it works on either account, on one side I'm on espresso, the other on wine) I sit here thinking that while the world*** parades (*** = the one on St. Charles Avenue right. about. now) I float around the new.
(and then take a short stargaze break. we'd all be crazy not too. while looking up to catch beads, catch that starshine too. And then I hope your star story is as good as mine's feeling.)
And by good // I mean // fucking good // because I don't know how it could even for a single second be a thing // a SINGLE thing // unless your tiny pupils are blown wide open by the brightness.
And now 2 hours have passed.
And like I can count anymore stars tonight/day. And I believe I've missed her. The lady. She's on dessert. Or maybe half way through the crème brûlée. I'll catch back up with her in the morning.
No matter what time it is.
How's that feel on a wardrobe tip? Like this I suppose.
photo credits herrreeeee.