(no subject)
Oh lord. i sit and sit on my narrow brick stoop at night and watch the cars go by and think up storms that are all just gone with the wind. i laugh at my wit as it hits me but it’s as evasive as it has always been when i want to make it public and "permanent", and falling asleep is so much easier. it’s somewhere lingering still, but i can’t quite put my finger on it. my meditative week after coming back to north caroline after being in maryland yielded a sense of commitment, probably owing to my evening liturgy of sitting on a brick stoop in warm air watching the cars go by and listening to the leaves. owing also to new crafts; fabric crafts, comfortable chairs, late nights. owing to independence, owing to warm rain, and by the end of the week owing to asheville, jack C bashir Y sydney W lily R zach S, mariana T who i may or may not be writing about - or because of - more frequently soon… the variability of this lies mainly in the fact that i may or may not be writing more soon period, as has always been the case. i can blame it this one time, though, on the fact that i was offered a job on a POT A TO farm on the Californian coast a few hours north of san francisco and was then suspended from UNCG for missing the very last of a half-semester class intended to reform my academically probated ass. i missed it because it should have ended before spring break, and i spent an extra night in Asheville validating and consummating my strongest traits and then woke up and drove back the first morning i was due back at school. my first class was canceled and i slept the rest of the day, through the very, very painless and very, very important last class. i called M Templin on the phone and she sounded on the verge of sleep and strung together some concept of “huddling against a fading consciousness” or “being crowded out into unconsciousness” or something. we would talk later. during my week of solitude it rained occasionally and i sat one night on my steps, thinking about sitting on my steps, waiting to go to harris teeter. i was perched on my haunches and the edge of a step because i didn’t want to get my seat all wet, but i said fuck and sat back and was more comfortable. i could take small drags and it would be over or i could pull deeply and it would hurt and i would really feel it and know i was doing it, and know it happened. i stood up afterwards and felt my seat and it was dry, so i had nothing to be ashamed about. i went to Asheville one week, Asheville came here the next, i went to Asheville the next, and can’t even think of a single category in which i was missing complete fulfillment at 10 PM on Saturday night. i tested it by reopening my infinity-based existential crisis educated into me by my astronomy class last semester, and was still content. I am existing fully. aging isn’t moving towards anything or away from anything, it’s a texturization if it’s anything at all. on my scale, the largest scale my current self will ever be conscious for, i am making a big splash. i will finish this cigarette and listen to Breezy and Curtis talk a little more under the blanket on the couch across from me on this front porch. They drank 2C-E this afternoon and are in a grand way. it’s mild out and the cat walks up onto the porch too. i made them a steak and they said it was so good that they wanted to cry. even though i'm full, i will go inside and eat a few more bites of this successful corn chowder that I made for everyone in the house. i will paint, I will exercise, I will meet new people, i will find and use new forms of energy for activities including and (do i need to even say it) not limited to interaction and the construction of a representation of my brand of perception, which isn't as much getting closer to purity as it is just getting more complicated. i will decide if these two goals are opposite and if it bothers me regardless of that. i will enjoy the freedom of schoollessness again, i will go to California in month and change and hopefully make plenty of money and buy more film equipment - nicer more marketable camera to make films in higher fidelity; lights; computer? Money for arts and crafts
Arts and Crafts
Arts and Crafts
money for eating at restaurants
eating at restaurants
eating at restaurants
money for moving about a bit
moving about a bit
moving about a bit
money for making more money
making more money
making more money
money for meat
which means more meat
which means more meat
One thing at a time, though. I will go to California and hopefully have options. This isn’t 100% but it’s sounding likely. I will spend the summer and possibly part of the fall in California and then maybe move to Asheville, it’s really looking that promising already. Do I stop to consider if I’m reading the wrong signals? This is not at all my first time in the town, but it’s certainly my first time in this side of the town. It’s not impossible that since my looks, talent, history and enthusiasm led me to have sex in Asheville that I consider Asheville a “nice place to live”. but it feels like different situation altogether than Greensboro, and I’ll wager that it actually is. This is a weird fetishization of locations that I’m doing and I won’t really go further with all this explicitness or conjecture… people and opportunity are everywhere. What’s next is something different and that’s all, god bless america. I once, out of pure whim, called my sister “doodie” instead of “rudi” and she responded by breaking down immediately to tears. I really didn’t expect that reaction. If it hurts to read, that’s because it hurts to write, or rather, hurts to contemplate, as I remember us both being too young still to talk through this trouble. it was invisible trauma less akin to a broken bone, which will heal, and more like a new light shone on a stain. Indelible. We were both smart enough to know that there exists plenty more time in the future. her name will always rhyme with “doodie”. the gears of our familiar imaginations were turning in characteristically inverse directions.
Arts and Crafts
Arts and Crafts
money for eating at restaurants
eating at restaurants
eating at restaurants
money for moving about a bit
moving about a bit
moving about a bit
money for making more money
making more money
making more money
money for meat
which means more meat
which means more meat
One thing at a time, though. I will go to California and hopefully have options. This isn’t 100% but it’s sounding likely. I will spend the summer and possibly part of the fall in California and then maybe move to Asheville, it’s really looking that promising already. Do I stop to consider if I’m reading the wrong signals? This is not at all my first time in the town, but it’s certainly my first time in this side of the town. It’s not impossible that since my looks, talent, history and enthusiasm led me to have sex in Asheville that I consider Asheville a “nice place to live”. but it feels like different situation altogether than Greensboro, and I’ll wager that it actually is. This is a weird fetishization of locations that I’m doing and I won’t really go further with all this explicitness or conjecture… people and opportunity are everywhere. What’s next is something different and that’s all, god bless america. I once, out of pure whim, called my sister “doodie” instead of “rudi” and she responded by breaking down immediately to tears. I really didn’t expect that reaction. If it hurts to read, that’s because it hurts to write, or rather, hurts to contemplate, as I remember us both being too young still to talk through this trouble. it was invisible trauma less akin to a broken bone, which will heal, and more like a new light shone on a stain. Indelible. We were both smart enough to know that there exists plenty more time in the future. her name will always rhyme with “doodie”. the gears of our familiar imaginations were turning in characteristically inverse directions.