A fuzzy caterpillar is crawling up and down my spine. I’m not sure where he’s going, but it sure feels fine! I want to watch him wiggle, but I just can’t seem to twist around far enough to do it!
Sitting in an uncomfortable, watching traffic go by out the window, I’d light a cigarette, but I don’t smoke. Ha.
Alone without a vice.
I look over my shoulder at the old, used typewriter I picked up at the pawn shop for a few five dollar bills. That machine will be the vessel that takes me around the world, and off to the stars. I know that deep down, but somehow I can’t seem to bring myself to use it. I can hardly even walk up to it. It sits on its royal position on my wooden desk and watches me as I pace across the 10 foot expanse of this hotel room. It watches me as I pause every time I pass the window. It knows I am trying to avoid eye contact with it more than anything.
It knows.
Thursday:
I sat on the subway with a seat open beside me for about 6 or 7 minutes through 2 stops, and no one sat next to me. No one at all. I suppose I never really sit next to anyone very often either. But, for some reason, today I noticed this.
I ate dinner with Annalisa, Matte, and Justin tonight. We had some Vietnamese food. Justin brought his Vietnamese phrase book along and looked up some of the food words.
I find Boston so relaxing compared to LA. I don’t think it’s so much the people or the city, but more just being out of my usual context. I don’t lead a generally relaxing life. That’s just the way it is.
Wednesday:
Bubba tubba tumbling.
Feeble fellow fumbling.
Grabbing in the air for the last falling straw,
and landing down hard empty-handed.
Dang.
I’ve been feeling stimulated lately. The past few days. Things around me are happening more intensely or maybe I’m just noticing more.
I put up a new song…
It’s pretty fast.
I’m headed to Boston for a couple of weeks. I don’t know if I’m probably prepared for the cold or not. I guess I”ll find out!
Saturday:
Tension.
I’m walking across the thin plastic roof of a small cardboard shack. It’s creaking, but seems to be holding me up. Very carefully, I take a deep breath and lift one leg in front of me with the knee bent. Then, I start to bend my other knee and creep down about a foot. Then, I wait.
Separation in space.
it holds us apart, and wills us together… We reach out for something that is nothing at all and we are not surprised when we actually do find a thing, maybe not everything, but you know, what can you really ask for these days anyway?
And drowning in our own personal amusement, we stroll through the obscenities of our obscurity and wish them on other people. And don’t we now?
And ambiguous and ambivalent, the crazy crowded clown schools, churn out professional insaners and we weep on the shoulders of the innocent and the poor.
And still you tempt me with your juices and your sweet oh sweet smelling loins. And you know I can’t resist, and I sometimes know I must, but other times I know nothing other than my desire, and you taunt me.
You are the answer hanging in front of me…
Grasping at weeping willows and shirking my duties as god of my realm and crumbles come crashing down around me, and we laugh at the funny man on the big screen as he tells us our children will die young. It is too frightful to be true, so we pretend we understand the joke, and walk out of the theater in a good mood. One mood for both of us. Hand in hand, we are walking, and the crash of a crying dove smashing through the restaurant window opens our eyes to the faith we have put in a dying world, and we embrace and mourn the death of something we never knew.
Tuesday:
tricky overwhelms the beauty of the day. So cynical.
It does sometimes seem like things are never going to be perfect. and of course they aren’t, I suppose. We are together learning something great. I must believe that. It keeps me going on.
And I need to keep going on, so I can help keep everyone else going on as well. Together, we will be able to go somewhere, whatever that means.
Only together.
And even miniver is part of ‘us’ now.
Ahaha.
I’m leaning against a cold steel pole. It’s keeping me from falling, but it’s very very cold and hard against my back. I turn around and grab the pole with my two hands and, holding my arms semi-stiff, I shake myself back and forth until I can’t feel my fingers at all anymore. Then, I stop and look around. I hear something. Someone is softly laughing from somewhere nearby. If I were not so cold, I would be enraged. As things are, I am barely curious.
Time ticks on and I am alone with someone else’s laughter.