# thinking of you yet again you were beautiful good to talk to i mistook your intentions today you sit outside in sunshine under tree with your little designer elf assembling programmer's desk from ikea your little biodegradable bottle of korean bubble tea small packet of unsalted spelt crackers your post modem data shades short pixie bang hair your bare and imperfectly poised neck musculature we're so dimensionally near to you right now we can imagine smelling perfectly intense yet brief notes of the custom body lotion you once brought from a select parisian perfumery big surprise once again one is distracted from the daily poverty of oneself and imagines kissing your neck tenderly we're also aggressively reminded of horrible summer whose greatest tragedy we've only now been able to partially articulate it concerns the unique light here on this miserable part of remote alien planet earth when filtered through leaves or at twilight the golden hour specifically what one likes to term that 420 moment when everything seems to pause how this light feels a strong almost unbearable rising energy potential a symbol for searing polyversal life love and adventure yet summer's greatest tragedy lies precisely in what it's light implies what it manifests locally / potentially in the eyes yet in fact never occurs at least not for us permanent frozen state of undischarged heat a desperate yearning an endless useless hunger even a threat maybe a single look in beautiful smiling eyes all this heat and and warm light and yet nowhere to go nobody to love and no damn adventure in fact sweet jack all only ever more terminal boredom andor existential depression mere endless heat clammy night itching sweat intense aching loneliness and deep suburban estrangement feelings of deep loss for something never remotely obtainable seasonally affected soul blues during summer it's true there just ain't no cure sparks of raw liquid neon orgone which alas neverquite jump across the gunningagap between two lonely researchers or rather more honestly between one lonely researcher and someone who already has excess of superficial myfakefriends and soulless bland lovers thanks between what summer only ever suggests and what occurs but which never arrives close ever closer but no further as though the rich pageant of life's giant vandergraph winds up to abnormal degrees but no super intense summertime lightning strike occurs as on the dusty high desert plains of suburbia it only gets hotter madder and stranger ever more brooding and existentially humid summertime as some nonthing stuffed full of hollow light and meaningless heat if only we could tell you about all this of all we feel and the summertime blues peering out through dusty windows of a random shallow soul dribbling down the double glazing sweating through heavy idiot brows all while others just dance dance dance through life lighter than a magic forest feather hair streaming behind a wild untamable force despite all those friends and lovers one senses your lonely too if only we could be your one truer companion on this ancient dusty desert path spectral light right now shining on beautiful skin of palest summer a fruitless magic whispering bamboo grove dream some could gladly fade into bright silent nondual nothingness // [[republic of bob contents | imaginary pastime republic of bob]]