full of moxie and viscosity

Found so much joy in driving today (Beck's Guero on the stereo), in an awesome iced chai from a tea place in Tower, and in writing a new scene to the novel. The best part?

"Everything I have is plaid. I realize this now, in a bass-filled note coming from my speakers. Nothing is solid, nothing uncrossed by something else- nothing my own. My lines extend to someone else's intersections forever.

I go inside and watch him twitch in his sleep, his astounding face crumpled into a smile. I kiss him and he clutches me close, kisses me back, asks me, smiling, 'Did you figure it out?'

I collapse beside him, crying in plaid."