i don't know what to say other than that the fucking windchimes woke me up at 3am and i had to put earplugs in to go back to sleep.
what would i do if i lived near an airport?
i don't know whose windchimes they are. they hang under the stairs in front of the basement unit that is used for storage so they don't obviously belong to anyone in particular. my hunch is that they were installed about 122 tenants ago and no one knows who they belong to so no one will take them down.
not that i think they necessarily should be taken down. windchimes are pleasant enough and earthy enough to appeal except for when the wind is blowing at 40mph in the middle of the night.
i wonder if the neighbors who were playing hendrix at full blast a couple of evenings ago had trouble sleeping because of the windchimes. a nice bit of poetic justice that would be but probably i'm the only one on the block who was up last night listening to the violent tinkling.
my earplugs incidentally disappear one by one. i don't know where they go. i manage to take them out of my ears without waking up so that when i do wake up the earplugs are gone and i have no idea where i have put them. sometimes they show up on my pillow. sometimes the get entangled in the sheets.
occasionally they miraculously make it into the little baggie i keep them in at the head of my bed. that really astounds me. that i could put them away in my sleep makes me wonder what else i might do in my sleep.
often though the earplugs disappear completely. there are plenty of bermuda triangles in my room what with the elaborate loft-with-shelves-and-computer-desk-and-c
sometimes i think i am going to turn this room into a Schwitters house. it was Kurt Schwitters who filled his house with sculptural tunnels and passageways wasn't it? all i need is room to sit. every other cubic inch can be filled with stuff.
or earplugs should they ever surface.