Knotty Thoughts

thinking under the influence

telepathic conversations on the bus July 1, 2010

Our trip to San Francisco was coincidentally during Pride 2010! Over the ten days we spent in the bay area, I had quite the range of experiences, mostly too exhausting to write about in any detail right now. Zoo, Alcatraz, random joints, aquarium, fun sex, open container citation, bums, DANCING, bartering, record stores, clubs, girlsgirlsgirls, boysboysboys, Diggnation, free alcohol, DRIVING, ice machines, missing my beautiful animals and my beautiful keyboard. If nothing else the trip served to remind me of who I am and whom I’d rather be. Pure inspiration, even the shitty parts.

I am still broke but yoga and meditation are free.

Now I realize that I’ve been doing it all wrong, this battle with my brain. It’s not about rewarding myself when I resist something I want to resist, especially when the the reward is another negative thing to my body. The reward is in the resistance itself.

I started a bit of a body detox today. Nearly two weeks of drinking and eating junk non stop while on vacation in San Francisco has taken it’s toll. I’ll still be drinking, likely, but I’m pairing my unabashed alcoholism will all other things healthy. I haven’t smoked more than five cigarettes in the last five weeks, though I did go through a few cheap cigars and the green smoke will never stop entering my lungs. Today
I have begun consuming large quantities of green tea with fresh blueberries and lemons smashed into it. This week I will only be eating things that are real food, nothing processed and very few carbs. Carrots, cucumbers, mushrooms, bananas, pineapple, lemons, strawberries, blueberries, beans and such. Doubtless, this attention to my body and mind will pay off.

Monday night was nice, back in the comfortable world of drunken friends. Tuesday night was even more lovely at Laura’s eviction party: drink, snort, dance, sing, talk, BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY, police, sprinklers, jumping balconies, hiding in closets and under beds, huge pupils. Ah, how ordinary in our lives but still so refreshing! We must create, oh you beautiful humans, this is our world.

Today is the day.
The beginning.
I have a lot of work to do, to become this person that I’ve been harboring within myself for years now. I will become what I want, I will change my name, I will adventure and love and live. My motivation has never been more grounded, my determination has never been more powerful. In a way, I am bringing each one of you with me.

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my sunken treasure April 21, 2010

[Tuesday April 20]
Laundry day brings clean clothes and reunions with guitar picks thought to be lost. Bus rides are welcome, giving me a solid time to catch up on comic books and soak in the energy of those with whom I share the earth. Each time someone asked me the date while writing a check or signing something at work I just smile and tell them it’s the twentieth of April, underground holidays are the best.

After a surprisingly busy day at work I spent the afternoon with my lovely Amy. I like her brain because it swirls around with mine each time we’re within eye shot and everything else melts away and we are kings of the universe! We break into tears at the sight of a dead creature and emit high pitched sounds at the sight of a live one. Even small little things like mister caterpillar, getting knocked over by the wind on the side walk.

We play in the garden (fuck being grown-ups!) and I show her the big fat cut I earned just hours earlier with a pair of scissors while trying to break down boxes. She just laughs and makes fun of me for my lack of finesse with a blade, it makes me wanna kick her ass! I threaten her and she’s so much smaller than me, but her eyes keep steady and she smiles. We’ll battle soon.

At some point in the quest for food and cigarettes Amy opens the trunk and starts making an excited high pitched sound. I know there’s not a cute little animal in there so my curiosity peaks. She comes to the window: ‘I still have half a half gallon of vodka in my trunk!!’
Just imagine my eyes getting real wide and my smile doubling: ‘FUCK yes! This day just got even sweeter!’ We light up and head to my place, tonight is gonna be good.

A holiday best spent with friends, we walk into the apartment quickly filled with excellent conversationalists and music in every room. Shot of vodka, shot of vodka, guitar, keyboard, singing. We should be writing songs for Dee Dee Bat, be we cannot focus. Amy wants to fight and I’m completely willing, but she’s so little! In the back of my head I’m afraid I’ll hurt her and then I feel guilty because we both know that’s the whole point and we both know all I need is a little more liquid encouragement. I owe her a couple hits in the ribs. She’s been working and going to school like crazy so it’s awesome that she decides to spend a chunk of her day off with me, and we’ll be making a trip to Seattle in May. I love this girl!

Earlier in the day a revolution brews in my brain. My notebook has been assaulted by mental gunfire as is evident by the ill prepared ink and sentence fragments wrecking the pages. I had to get all the thoughts down. A zine (an idea revisited thanks to a friend who recently put one together herself) based around finding our independence from governments and corporations in small ways with bartering and increased personal skill sets. It will be in print soon, I can feel the content bubbling up. I’m going to hand the first copies out at our vegan/vegetarian dinner on May 16th. Let me know if you want to come! Bring wine/drinks or coordinate with us and bring a vegan/veggie appetizer, dinner or dessert dish!

The remainder of the night was a swirl of advances, puppies, music and SLEEP. I hadn’t done that one in a little while.

[Wednesday, April 21]
Waking up a little hung over and sore did nothing to kill my instant joy today. I have to work soon, but it’s okay because all my clothes are clean. I’m hungry but we got groceries last night! It’s even healthy stuff! The sun is taking a little break, it rained all night. Everything is damp and heavy and I just wanna roll around in the world. Tomorrow we trek to Spokane for good company, laser tag and a punk rock show!

My thoughts are abundant, but steady, and my soul is absolute. Let’s do this mother fuckers!

 

nobody has to stay April 8, 2010

[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.

 

a tingling sensation December 30, 2009

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…my life can be pretty fucked up!

gosh, I used to be cute.

I used to paint my toenails.

and not give a fuck.

I was creative too.

I used to be in love.

I used to fall off my skateboard.

for a while I had close friends
the kind that let you spray paint them when they’re drunk.
the kind that keep you warm when the heat goes out
the kind that help you fill up the station wagon when dumpster diving
and never blame you for eating that chocolate.
or making strange cinnamon treats out of the pizza crust.
the kind that will always share their last cigarette with you
the kind that will write lyrics to punk songs and hide them on your computer
the kind that haggles for used skate shoes as a gift to you
the kind that bombs hills with you, even when they have loose bearings.
the kind that helps you cook a feast in an unpaid for apartment.
the kind that keeps playing even when they bleed.
the kind that accidentally breaks your ceiling fan with nunchucks
the kind that allow you to witness them shave their mohawks
let you paint their spikes.
the kind that give you hope and faith in humanity.
The kind I let go and forced away.

because I like to hear myself talk.
‘I am lucky to constantly be exposed to a ridiculous variety of experiences. I’m almost always completely consumed in this strange sense of appreciation and adoration for all things life. It can never be turned off. Everything is too interesting.’

Like right now, the speed and comfort with which my finger tips are flying across the greasy keys hitting letter after letter individually, forcing them to combine and spill my thoughts on to the page. On to my screen. On to your screen. You’re getting a sense of my life(the passion, the insanity, the awesomely fucked up-ness) from the safety of your own life. What a stunningly beautiful thing. How simply feeling the comfort I associate with typing can bring me to the brim with joy. REAL joy. It’s swirling about in my lungs at all times. My eyes are spinning, over-stimulated, desperately soaking in every last visual drop of information in my surroundings. Caressing it in brain fibers and sending a tingling bliss through my entire nerve system. Even in the two feet that have been crushed in circle pits so many times and are basically numb, they tingle now.
And don’t you want to live this?
don’t you want to look back on your memories and sigh happily with the knowledge that you’ve been living life to the fullest?
don’t you want to look forward to the future and giggle because you understand so clearly that even the most dreadful, terrible things that may occur are in their own way truly lovely?
don’t you want to be lured by the promise of new sensation?
fresh perspective?
don’t you want to be confident in your perception of actuality?

I do.
I am.
I love.

Hmm. Been hitting the bong.
But seriously, how can you let anything pass by you!
WAKE UP.
let the merriment commence!

your willingness to let yourself be happy is the key to full-blooded, unquestionable delight

 

resorting to resin hits December 6, 2009

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At times, I wonder.
This afternoon was one of those times; using a dirty towel to soak up the urine left on the bathroom floor by the other. My poor socks, at least they were on sale. I wonder if this is right, if this is okay, how long can I continue. I’m only twenty years old, I cannot even legally be an alcoholic yet. This hasn’t managed to dissuade me. [sigh]

The theme of last night’s party was the 1980s. The mix was great, the spandex was better; it was a fun group of people. Where we live (in an apartment) the neighbor’s don’t call the cops. I hate this place some times, but I do not want to leave. I may have no choice, though, if I don’t find a job soon. Very soon, T minus 3 weeks, MAX. I should be trying harder. Part of me wants to start over, be alone, snow and smallness. Then again, NO.

At last resort, the place I’d have to move to is Sandpoint, Idaho. I grew up there. It is a stunning place; the lake, the mountain. I could snowboard all winter, boat all summer. My family is close to there, but not my friends. I don’t even think I could get decent internet. I’m terrified that a move there will leave me feeling depressed and isolated. In the same way though, I would have a nice house to myself,  I could focus on building my character. I could go mountain biking, run the trails everyday, adventures in the woods. But I wouldn’t.  My mind keeps swaying. I am frustrated beyond belief with the pressure of decision and time is running out.

 

I’ve been sewing a lot, at least.

Let’s go on an adventure, shall we?

I’ll leave you on a note of slight sadness.
Though, the resin collected was impressive:

 

If I had a doomsday machine… December 3, 2009

The things that happened last night somehow managed to skew my immediate perception of the world and I do not like it. In the same moments I realized I need to return to my double daily doses of yoga. A deep sigh here. A distraction there.

When I woke up this morning my roommates were watching Doctor Strangelove. It made me giggle internally because the last time I saw the film I was living in Spokane, it was a Sunday afternoon. My old guitarist and I were sitting on the front porch of my broken down apartment building practicing our punk set acoustic style because the rest of the band was out of town. A neighbour came walking across the street without any shoes and we felt sure he would be coming to tell us to keep it down. Instead he told us that he had a mini studio in his apartment and invited us over. Turns out he did music scores for IFC and upon walking in we saw a beautiful set up of iMacs and audio equipment. We played a few of our songs for him, he was encouraging and told us that back in the 70s he was really into the then new onset of this thing called punk rock. He couldn’t have been more right; when getting up to use the bathroom (having to to avoid several cats) I noticed a gold record on the wall. To my great surprise, it was for an album in 1978 by The Skulls. I immediately questioned his possession of it, and to the great delight we found that we had just smoked [out of a small bronzed Coca Cola bubbler] with a teeny tiny little piece of history. Then we watched Doctor Strangelove and walked back home in a haze induced by both drugs and awe. I had completely forgotten about this experience until now. Wow.

 

I’ll be the first to admit it: I am a crazy cat lady. The big orange one is Sean Connery.
There are two others; MacGruber and Isotope. At some point last night I awoke to find two cats silhouetted in the window. Isotope was licking Sean Connery’s face.

Yesterday the weather was beautifully deceptive. Sunny and bright and glowing from my window; when I stepped outside my face froze instantly. Bicycling in that temperature was wholly uncomfortable even with the layers I was wearing. The majority of my day was spent standing in lines. At the Department of Licensing, at the bank, at the cable company, at the court house. Lines are terrible for one main reason; everyone in a line is in a bad mood. Impatient, angry, annoyed- it’s pure negative vibes! A very draining way to exist on a Wednesday afternoon.

The light part of the day was ending and I quite randomly decided to do something uncharacteristic.

My stomach, for unknown reasons, is uneasy.
Today I feel human.