I woke up vaguely now to the ever-present overcast of another Detroit cycle. The sun has been banished behind the sweetest gift to my eyes. I felt a jejune myriad of nothing. Peace.

Fading like fluorescent, I wondered what it'd be like if you were laying next to me. I smiled worldly ironic at the sweet impossible. I shook off the chlorine daydream with the rest of my sleepy coil.

I looked to my left. A giant orange ball of fur was sleeping on my black jeans.

I smiled sweetly and said, "Bugwee."

Her head came from somewhere and looked up at me. I pet her slowly, thinking about what a magnificent cat she is. Now it occurs to me why this area is called Cat's Corner; in a silly way. But it was eventual that I'd wind up from my cocooned sleeping bag. I emerged a fully awake dude. It's the sweetest thing to stroll in your underwear around someone else's apartment. I've become exceedingly happy/proud/slightly boyish about being svelt again.

I feel sexy in a quiet way.

Nicholas' 16 year old cat, Dot, is doing the usual in terms of wandering around the apartment and meowing loudly. Scientists still speculate why.

Nick is indisposed and in repose at Stephen's right now. Some still wonder how one can salvage and manage such relations after abuse. Simple identity equation there: love = a motherfucker. Pretentious and true.

He called about 10 minutes ago. I'll head over when he's feeling more awake. Our plan for today is simple:

*Eat lunch at a vegetarian buffet. Indian food. Last time I went was with Hillary some weeks back.

*Get buzzed to stubble by Stephen/Weavie at the salon he works at. I've been excited for days. All this damn hair can go.

*Do some photography later tonight around downtown Detroit. We'll go down Woodward to some places that caught my eye during New Year's, back when we were driving to Slow's (which I'll get to). We might also hit the abandoned railroad station sans bolt-cutters, maybe an abandoned building or three. It's a shame I didn't bring my dagger, but I could give a shit who is in them. It's more the what that runs fingernails near particulars.

*Whatever comes across our minds.

A lulling synthesized melody percolates from the stereo system (see above). Everything is aligned and beautiful, at once mundane and mystical.

Everything is fine.

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