I wish it would storm. It is hot and humid and the damn weather man has been calling for rain, but it isn't coming. I wanted to see lightening and hear thunder, and I wanted this humidity to be cut in half by a cool, acidic rain.

I did not water my garden today because hell was supposed to come tonight, but the sky is clear and the stars are out and my glasses are blurred from the air- thick as sweat.

So I stay in and listen to old Dylan songs that I once hated, and I hold my head towards the vents so that the air conditioning can touch me as soon as possible. I drink strange booze that tastes terrible and dance around my cat, shaking his toys at his head, while singing songs I only know partial lyrics to.

I fished today and caught swamp grass.

What a good day it is.

And how much better it would be if it would just fucking rain.