I kick closed the heavy door that leads into the rest of the building, I also shut the one that leads to the back. I want privacy, I want to lay down on the floor and stare at the ceiling with little to no thoughts in my mind. I don't take out my headphones though. the last song on the album that is playing is almost done anyways
I put my hood up to pillow the back of my head from the hardwood floor. I lie down as the song winds down. but a final refrain begins, I am staring at the ceiling trying not to contemplate my existence, and Ryan Adams croons "I'm not evil, I'm just scared" a couple times as the song fades out.
Now despite the fact I couldn't not think about this wording and apply it to my own life, I still lay there for about five minutes after the song ends hoping the silence will help me clear my mind. It doesn't
I get up and wonder what I'm gonna do now.
no, the cabs here they can't run down to your house
sometimes i'll sit and wish i were somewhere else
so let's dim the daylights for the sweethearts that we are
sometimes i find myself still lying in your arms
all of the sweethearts of the world
are out dancing in the places
where me and all my friends go to hide our faces
avenues run one way
streets they run the same
something in the air here
still keeps me away
though the cabs here they can't take me to your house
i get directions and pretend i was somewhere else
all the sweethearts of the world are out littering the bars
and i am still avenues from any place you are
you know avenues run one way
the streets they run the same
its gonna take a lot of shit for me
to stay away
so I've mentioned how sometimes when I am walking I will close my eyes for what is an unhealthy amount of time to still be moving without seeing but I am oddly comfortable with this. and sometimes it's honestly just better than the alternative. have you seen people and what they do now a days?
actually further justification for my eyes closed belief reared it's ugly head tonight on my way to work. I stopped at the store across the street to pick up what would become my dinner tonight. I had my backpack with the book I will read tonight and room for whatever I planned to buy left in it, and I had Mr. Brown with me as well. As I walk up I see a woman in the driver seat of vehicle on her phone and crying. I knew her.She is a grad student at the University and taught a class I took last year. She still remembers me as well, despite who knows how many students she's had. It was a writing class and I was at times a bit (too) honest about my life and things I've seen and done and therefore I might be harder to forget than your average 19 year old college kid but still, I find it weird that she says hi to me when we see each other. And it was especially weird tonight. You see she waved to me and smiled. It was a terrible smile, I could tell she was crying, she was sad. I mean logically she was either on the phone with someone consoling her from what made her sad or she was still on the phone with someone who told her something that/or that did make her sad. I waved back and smiled. I mean what was I supposed to do. She's a sweet girl. A couple weeks back she asked me about my dogs. She meant Monster and Hoots and I had to tell her that I didn't have either. That my ex took Monster and I had to get rid of Hoots, since she was never really mine in the first place. When I responded thusly she was so dreadfully embarrassed. I reassured her it was okay, it is the way of life and it's not like we know each other that well. She was just making small talk and I would never fault someone for doing that poorly.
I wanted to help her, I wanted to go ask her what was wrong. this would be wildly inappropriate given how well we don't know each, as mentioned above but I still can't help but want to try to make things better. Maybe it's some sort of weird personal concept of archaic chivalry but I can't help it. I see a woman crying and I want to make it stop, make it better. I am an idiot.
"babies all look like Winston Churchill to Cerebus"
what the hell sort of quote is that? and why would I share the statement with Skot. and who the hell is Dave Sim? well other than the guy who I was quoting.
I just took a stroll down a memory lane that the internet has been kind enough to not destroy and I am saddened by the mention of books that I read but don't remember reading at this point some couple of years later.
I also used to quote Phineas Poe more frequently. I should do that more.
Actually, speaking of what I should or should not do, I should be doing my math homework or better yet writing that paper for my lit class.
or I could just reread the lovely poem I got from you. but I've read it some many times today already, of course that doesn't change how it effects me each time. this will always elict an response, maybe it's the response I don't want I want to handle at the moment.
I have three hours before any "work" has to be done around here and I could try to pound out my last section and half of math.....but really I just don't want to.
I feel I accomplished enough tonight just by seeing the Walking Dead season finale.
I should be doing homework. I have a test in my Ethics class and I have three short stories to read by Tuesday. But alas I am lazy.
Just finished some of my cleaning for the night. Mopped the office while listening to Mitch Hedberg album. Classic.
I've been writing a lot lately but it doesn't feel very good. I'm in two writing classes and its just....I don't know exactly. Not as fun or easy maybe...I really don't know why its been so unpleasant lately.
On a more positive note I got tickets to see Neko Case and Shovels and Rope. Not together, different shows. Should be good times.
I am lately oddly comfortable about not talking to people.
A former co-worker ran into Shawna earlier and asked her how I was. She told him I was good, school work and whatnot. He hasn't run into myself or Shawna in a while and didn't know for certain that we were still a couple. This thought occurred to him after already asking how I was. So after that he goes on to ask if she's still dating me. Shawna makes a joke about how we broke up and she just stalks me is all. A laugh is had by all. She tells me this exchange this evening before I went to work. My only responds was that stalking me would be the most boring stalking ever. Home, work, school, and the walks to and from any of them.
In class I avoid talking if at all possibly. One class is online and the public forum is key part of the class. In which I somewhat participate in. I find that what I say is often taken well. Even my David Sedaris bashing was taken fairly well.
I don't want to ever go back to Wisconsin. I am though. My grandmother is turning 80 and wants to get the whole family together.
I wish I had the time to binge out on Octavia Butler novels and seasons of Star Trek the Next Generation.
"I should probably to be dragged out to sea. Lay Low baby, I probably won't be back anytime soon"
"...when you can't take your dead friends names out your phone." This
is an Aesop Rock quote. I, when first hearing the track was struck
by this sort of seeming comment. I felt a kinship to this theory.
I don't take my dead friends names out of my phone. If it dies I
don't go as far as to put them back in, but I don't actively erase.
The same theory goes to social media and I've found this to be a very common thing. A family member or close friend or former lover
operates the site under the deceased name in a non-distasteful way.
You know just to keep it up and running and available for us (those who knew them but don't live near the grave or have photos we can look through in our possession) to see them or pretend to communicate with them again. I find this polite and maybe a bit unhealthy (for the site overseer) but on the whole very unselfish and kind.
I decided to look back on the amount of back and forth internet communications someone I knew (who has passed away) and I had on Facebook. I went to the page that is labelled in bolder black letters You and (insert name here).
It is here where I find one sad comment.
On Sunday Feburary 26 2012 at 6:03pm the only comment that was ever exchanged between us occurred.
That's what he said, I mean wrote for me on my Facebook wall.
This taken in the wrong context sounds so sad and horrible. I know it wasn't like that, we were cool. We also had a semi-cruel sense of humor toward each other. But.....as time passes my memory fails me and I become concerned. Was the only contact we had in the time between when he moved out of town and when he died, him calling me a prick. Is this really the only accessible communication. Others can see this.
I do remember exchanging some messages a couple of times, but those are more hidden, a personal exchange.
This might be as simple as me trying to not be seen as someone a guy died hating. Of course I know that that is not the case. We were cool. He for some reason was always cool to me and I like him. He was a good guy. A bit foolish at times but of among us isn't?
When I started writing this I was listening to a song called Missing You and although the song is not heavy on that theme lyrically (for some reason) I couldn't help but miss him.
This really stems from a night a couple nights ago where I saw a guy across the room and both my girlfriend and I looked at him and as I said something about the resemblance my girlfriend said "I know. I thought the same thing." I say he would have loved it there that night. It was the concert of the guy who's Missing You song I was just listening to.
For the record his phone number is still in my phone. And I hope my phone never dies.
my girlfriend is complaining because I am so busy lately with school.
this is exactly what happened the last time I was in school with my last serious girlfriend.
is furthering my education and maintaining a relationship at the same time just out of the question for me?
there was this couple that Dave knew that i'd been avoiding for a while. mostly at first it was because the gal kept trying to get Dave to come over and try to convince the guy to quit drinking. I admit that from what I heard he was pretty low, the amount of constant drinking did have a certain rock bottom quality to it. but eventually he got caught drunk driving (again) with his five year old son in the car. (actually I found out later that the wife called the cops on him, didn't put up a fight to not have the kid in the car when he left drunk or anything just called the cops on him)
after that Dave would come and watch the kid for short periods of time, 30 minute to a hour clips. then it turned into a plan for them all to live together somewhere south of here. I tried to be realistic about all of the plans but Dave wouldn't listen. eventually it all fell through and she just started letting Dave stay where they were living anyways. I tried to warn him against this as well but he didn't listen. this turned into Dave taking the kid to and from school quite frequently and doing many of the household chores, and chipping in half of food costs.
it was getting to a boiling point where Dave was getting ready to leave when she got pulled over with pills and weed in her car one night as Dave was at the house watching the kid. and it turns out she was on felony probation for.....well, I don't know. I assume drugs. cause it turns out she's been shooting meth practically the whole time Dave's been living there. and this whole time she's telling Dave that she's staying off everything but pot and Dave's believing every word.
so from jail she telling child protective services that Dave and some neighbor lady would take temporary custody of the kid until the end of the school year and maybe until she got out on bond. of course she didn't get out on bond. so Dave's been the legal guardian of a 6 year old boy. yeah, he turned six with both parents in jail. no one knows when the mom is getting out, and dad's in for 15 years.
but school is almost over and hopefully the kid can get into the hands of some family somewhere instead of the system.
the money for two plane tickets to Wisconsin was sent to my house (in the form of a check). it arrived in the mail today around 12:30 this afternoon. i should have been sleeping but since i knew said check was in the mail and cheap plane tickets tend to increase in price almost daily i figured i should forgo a bit of my rest to get the money in my bank so it can be used the sooner the better.
as with most banks.....(long story short) the money is in my bank and literally of no use to me until tuesday. this (i remind you i hadn't slept yet for any and all conversations i had) prompts me to call and plead my case and probe for loopholes. it seems silly to me that a bank can't verify the amount of money in another bank account via phone with only the information on the check itself when any moron with a smart phone and only slightly more info could do it in a matter of minutes.
i ended up hanging up on two people, almost politely. considering what i was tempted to say next......hanging up was the polite thing to do.
so with (at most) five hours of sleep i am at work.
obviously i am not in the best of moods. it could be said that i don't even really want to go on this trip and now here i am dealing with crap before tickets are even bought. which speaking of which.......i hate planes. i am more then a little concerned about how i'll handle the flight. it's not that i'm prone nor immune to panic attacks, also i tend to handle things well enough in the moment. (if that moment is public and freaking out or breaking down would make things only more difficult) but all this said i do hate heights and have a distrust of concept of flying metal machines. being in the belly of what i consider to be a death trap, actually trapped is a better word then being. in a car i can always bail...get out anywhere if i feel the overwhelming urge. not an option on a plane. this frightens me.
after i wait for the banks policy to run it's course and deal with the issue of purchaseing a plane ticket i get to wait months before i actually have to go to the airport and then after all this stress and discomort where am i? back home with family in a town i despise. this is already shaping up to worst trip i've ever taken. and given some of my less pleasent hitch-hiking stories, that is saying something
if it was up to me...we all know a trip back home would not be high on my list of things likely to happen in the near future. this is why everyone conspired against me to make it happen. even if money weren't an issue (ha, if only) i still wouldn't be too keen about planning a trip home, it would still not even be on my radar. so those who feel i should make a trip home set this up, gave me a time frame and the money and now......i'm still not comfortable with things now not as a abstract idea but as the plan comes together i'm hating the individual pieces as well as the whole plan.
i have no access to television again.
no couch, fewer comfy chairs
less rooms to hang out in
no kitchen access
with this lack of useful things i also have less work to do.
more free time and nowhere to spend it, nothing to spend it on
ALL I DO READ
in the past month or two i have started and finished:
1 Nick Mamatas book
2 Charles Gillman books
but mostly Terry Pratchett. at least a half dozen Discworld books
and a David Bowie biography
the third Phineas Poe book (Hell's Half Acre) was completed in this time frame and probably most Penny Dreadful as well
some Lovecraft short stories
tonight i started The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho and by the end of the weekend i figure i'll have moved onto Nightwatch. (the movie is cool so i have high hopes for the book)
i plan to read the new Neil Gaiman as well as soon as possible
as awesome as this is i feel like i'm not accomplishing anything by it. this is just a residual thing from a summer where all i did was hang out in the library reading. that summer i didn't work, barely put in applications. i just spent my days reading Ginnesburg, Bukowski, Vonnegut, Easton Ellis, and so many others. I reread almost all Kerouac. but looking back and most likely at the time i felt like a loser. i was 20 years old no job no ambition staying on friends couches or even at my mothers house.
and now i'm going through books at a rate that is far too close to that summer and i'm feeling strange.
then again i'm getting paid to read books so i should probably shut the fuck up and think about what to read next.