must be the moon
I don’t know what the point of tonight is.
July 29, 2008.
The first day of the rest of your life.
Fuck this shit.
My phone is cooing at me to recharge it. Switch to offline mode. It’s incredible how long a phone can stay alive when the radio is turned off. Same with people.
I’ve put off washing my clothes for like two weeks… today was the day I had to break down… out of socks.
I went to Arden fair today to find some kind of a backpack thing to take with me on my trip. I got a Puma bag. I mean, it wasn’t the super stylish one I wanted, but the super stylish one would have required a whole new outfit to pull off carrying it.
It’s weird… I’ve been talking to Drew a lot the past few days. I got really trashed at Christen’s and ended up instant messaging him… and then he ended up talking to me like last night while he was totally trashed. I don’t know what it is about that guy… he makes me feel very strong positive and negative feelings.
It sucks I blew my chance with him, but I just didn’t awaken the same kind of feelings he made me feel. That and I’m impatient as fuck, duplicitous, and mainly concerned with my own happiness.
Most of the time I feel like I’m waiting for Vaughan and the car-crash that I am inevitably moving towards with every day.
“The car-crash was the first real thing that had happened to me in years.”
I know day in about 20 years that will be so true. Just working this month full-time I feel completely and utterly exhausted. If I was doing something that I actually liked all that time, maybe it would be okay… but that’s such a tall order. when I’ve been doing web design for like four days in a row I want a change and to write something… and then three days into writing things my brain is mush and I can’t crank anything out anymore.
Doing the exact same thing for eight hours every day… it seems like a fate worse than death. I’m going to do the college thing, get my degree in the thing that I want, and try to get a job at it. If that doesn’t work out, I can always be an organic farmer in upstate New York, I guess.
I’m in the car outside my house. It’s my only place I can do voice-recognition. I only have 14% battery.
This MacBook is a year old, and I used to go through at least two charge cycles a day.
The people next door to turn on their light. I wonder if they can hear me.
Keith brags about all this insanely good sex he’s having. What do I have to show for anything?
But then again, Keith has an insatiable sex drive. I’d probably have AIDS by now if I was him.
I’m so sick of living here. I’m so sick of all my friends.
I wasn’t writing because I wanted to keep it all inside… to pretend that everything was okay. As soon as I touch pen to paper… my mouth to a microphone… everything goes to shit.
I can’t keep it inside. I don’t know whether that makes me weaker or stronger than everyone else. I used to have a short list of people who if they called me and asked me to run away with them that I would.
Christen would talk about how depressed she was, and in the back of my mind I knew if she called me and told me she was going to kill herself I would quit my job and we would go on some kind of insane road trip (this was pre-$4/gallon gas).
Now I have no idea what would make her happy. While I was at the mall I ran into Maria (whom I LOVE!), one of Christen’s old coworkers, and talked old times.
I just wish I could make her happy somehow… but it all has to come from within. She needs to be Marla again. she was just so incredible… she had all of her loves…zombies… Sylvia Plath… Bjork…and then it all got thrown out the window with Allen.
One of the main reasons that she stopped talking to me was she thought that I thought she was lame. I must admit, when I think back on it, I scoffed at her plans to live in a shipping container…and many other HorseCow-esque things. I scoffed at those things because those weren’t Christen things. Those were HorseCow things. She talks about how insincere and unfriendly the people are to her there now that she’s not with Allen (they’re kinda sorta halfway back together), and I want to say “Um…that’s exactly how I felt every time I came over and you weren’t around. Like I was a stranger trespassing somewhere.
I know I’m digging up old shit, but you can’t just build a skyscraper over landfill. I want us to be okay with things, because no matter what’s going on, the neon light is on in the most abandoned storeroom in the back of my mind.
“WHEN IS SHE GOING TO IGNORE YOU AGAIN”
I don’t mean this to be an indictment of you at all, Christen, because I love you dearly, I’m just trying to flush out any demons. Not talking about things is how this whole mess started. I want you to be happy.
So, the short list, in no particular order.
1) Patrick.
I love Patrick. And no matter how often he’s fucking his boyfriend that he’s been with for a year or so, I still am totally head over heels in love with him. But..let’s face facts. He wouldn’t move to Sacramento to be with me, and I wasn’t willing to move to Oklahoma. He helped me get over Adrian, which was the crisis of my life, and I am eternally in debt to him. He’s got the heart strings tied up in bows.
2) Drew.
I don’t know what it is about the guy, but he just gives me that funny feeling in your chest where you just want to hug them and grit your teeth at a faux pas of theirs at the same time. If he showed up at my house breathless, splattered in blood, and packing a handgun, I’d throw the MacBook in a duffel bag and follow him to the ends of the earth.
3) Terry.
This one is more hard to pin down…I remember distinctly the weeks after the breakup, the hurried lunches at the Downtown Plaza where I was fighting with myself tooth and nail to not hold him and kiss him. But now that seems but a dream. We are argumentative, and although we are compatible in other ways, his chameleon-ness and the way he jumps from “friend” to “friend” scares me.
4) By now I’ve nearly forgotten about Alex. I’m sure he’s forgotten about me. He moved away from San Francisco. My dreams of a sunlit Ocean Beach love affair are gone.
5) I felt “in love” with Zero for about a week. After that, it was just a rush to keep up appearances and hope that the feeling would return.
6) The last person I can really think of is Adrian…and I have to say, time mends all wounds. We were talking last week and I was thinking to myself “oh, I’m bored, we should hang out” and then the whole relationship like flashed back through my head. Eh, maybe not. But we do have a staggering amount of interests in common.
Oh yeah,
7) Andrew.
I’ve been resisting my impulse to call him for…well…ever since I stopped talking to him. It wasn’t intentional, I just didn’t have anything to say, and then it became a week, a month…
Despite all my posturing, all we have in common is that puppy love feeling I get when I’m around him. And, of course, I refuse to admit that his beard was a really big turnoff.
It seems I used to have all these deep-seated issues regarding my exes and nowadays it seems like it’s all burned off or has sunk imperceptibly below the surface. The thing I feel most bad about is my not feeling anything.
I desperately wanted to talk on the phone today, but I couldn’t really think of anyone to call other than my mom. That doesn’t mean I didn’t call everyone anyway.
I hate being the needy friend who has nothing to talk about but ennui. I actually did have a few conversation topics, but not ones that really involve anyone else.
Got a new backpack for my trip at Puma, scored a FireWave (that I’ve been wanting forever), they’re phasing it out so I got the $99 device for $20 including shipping. It’ll allow me to use my Mac for surround sound through my speakers.
Which I am getting back before I leave. Or else.
I feel like I’m in this incestuous circle of friends where all of my friends are my exes and they’re all fucking each other.
Christen says I should cut them all off…but what good would that do? Go from a few insincere friends to no friends at all? I can’t be dependent on her to be my only friend, that’s weird and selfish.
And Chris is moving to L.A.
The only person I could trust for advice.
It’s a good thing I’m leaving.
Some days I wish it was forever. Unfortunately, I’m too poor to satiate my every unhappiness with money.
If I could, I’d be far, far away. Or so I think.
Watched The Last Starfighter tonight for the first time. It was ok.
Read about Eugene Ionesco, transgressive fiction, Grove Press, obscenity trials. I want to read a thousand novels. Maybe I should do that.
I need something insane to happen…a zombie attack, a nuclear bomb blast…I feel like I’m becoming complacent, comfortable, stupid, and empty.
I bought my Cut Copy / Presets tickets today. That’s one reason to live, right? Man, it’s 1 a.m.
My wrists are killing me, I have to sleep. They’ll be killing me all day tomorrow. Hello, full-time employment.
