[Tuesday, April 6]
Freshly showered, writing friendly lyrics on giveaway cigarettes. There is something special about today.
My brain and I have decided to make peace, considering we have to spend so much god damn time together. Nothing has to be hard anymore. The cold wind doesn’t have to be uncomfortable, getting up early can be fun, being alone is a blessing. So much is beautiful.
I understand now that happiness is relative; it has to be, or I’m fucked. I’m still hoping to find a better adapted wet stone for my creative edge but I feel it’s only days, if not hours, beyond my reach. As if time and effort are parallel, but then maybe effort is the downside in that instance. I’ll ease up today and find out.
The air currents were restless outdoors so I dampened my little mohawk, misted it with hair spray and let the wind style it at will.
An overactive imagination engorged by the early morning snappers my lungs depend on often cause scenarios to leap through my brain.
Example: While sitting on the bus I noticed an older Japanese man eying the ‘anti-swastika’ patch I have sewn to the right shoulder of my survival jacket. My buddy Mike made if for me in a patch swap (I made him a patch that screamed Steggo! Steggo! I love you!) almost two years back. He said something to his wife and continued on in ordinary silence, but that’s not what happened in my head. I envisioned him looking at me with eyes yearning for understanding from a detached generation and saying “My country may have allied with the Nazis, but I have not.” to which my hypothetical self replied “My country may have been okay with the atomic bomb but I am not.” a handshake ensues and peaceful balance gaps a generation. Haha!
That’s a condensed moment inside my head.
Too much is always going on. The same bus ride only proved this further when I found myself watching the scrunched up face of a 3-year-old as she peered around the vehicle with unblinkingly wide eyes just feigning to soak in every last drop of visual information and the bits of mental data and analysis that must go along with them. I just wanted to send her a message via wave lengths to let her know that I understand the pressure that must be building up in her gray tissues, I full comprehend the frustration of attempting to process each and every pixel of colour, sound, action, scent and movement that assails the senses. I also know the love and passion and excitement and BLISS that come along with it. Fuck! What fortune, I would have it no other way.
It’s so hard to wanna fight when you wish you were never born.
(Ya Can’t Go Home- Leftover Crack.)
On the more normal human end of things…
At work, the prom season is well on it’s way and I always find it entrancing to study the various dynamics between mothers/daughters/sisters/grandmothers.
One of my favorite parts of my normal day is the twenty minutes after closing the shop where I wait for the bus. Hook my ipod up to the speaker system, lock the doors and DANCE.
Sometimes I get distracted. Miss the bus. Wait for the next one. Play with self timer, windy outside. Eats my cigarettes, breaks my camera (UGH!). Wind and spit do not mix.
Subtle vandalism, justifiably harmless.
[Wednesday, April 7]
Another early morning, a strong connection with an old friend. Denial and honesty all rolled into one big fat blob mixed with a little mischievous fun and wholly inappropriate prospects. My guilt hasn’t spoken up even a little and your medicated persistence has never made me value my tenancies toward a punk rock rebellion more. Love you, though, and we’re both well aware that a long battle of bullshit and wits has just begun.
Mid day was a blur of regularity and sugar comas interspersed with obsessive minutes of repetitive piano playing and singing.
The night came to an end with heels and pretzels in the back of a truck on a highway screaming songs at the top of my lungs while drivers passing by could only assume my tequila intake had already begun. A drag show of the finest quality and a classy (sarcasm) lip locking, hip grabbing, few minutes with a lovely woman. Spending a little time with the few people I would truly consider to be friends, wholly accepting of each strange little fiber in my body was also really nice. They live in the same apartment complex as me these days, we can literally chat from our balconies.
As much as I like to avoid materialism, there are certain objects that I have a passionately emotional connection to. Oh, the sentiment. My cat needs to go on a diet.