(no subject)
how strange, these times.
i've worn down the fillings on my back teeth from grinding at night. i'm picking holes in everything i touch - it's going to be a while before i feel like i'm back up above water, but i suppose that's normal. on the other hand, i don't really want to invest too deeply in the idea of emotional recovering. i fear that i would use it as an excuse to lie listless, doing nothing, waiting for betterment, claming i was resting.
i certainly do need to rest, but i also need to grab ahold of the world that seems to be spinning by me.
today i worked in a cafe, typing out SEO garbage on my laptop. i ended up in a conversation with the waitress who had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and now bone cancer. she looked fearful while we talked. she sat in a chair, pulling her lips and looking at the ceiling, trying not to cry, aching for me to notice and come over, comfort her. usually i would, but i didn't. i sat in my place and worked, earphones on. we spoke again as i left, but i felt that i'd failed to reach out to her in the way she had hoped, that the overtures of hospital-story-trading had not really given her any comfort, any sense of connectedness.
i came home and cleaned my apartment, listened to crass, watched the sun go down through the ivy that grows over my bedroom window. when it was dark, i biked up to the plateau and met cait. we drank water in her drawing room, her persians lounged on the table, and we made plans for our upcoming book club. we're reading 'the captive of gor' i think. some terrible quasi sci fi erotica novel from the 80's that she found for a dime. we didn't have two copies, so we preteneded it was a wishbone and ripped it in half along the spine. she has the beginning, i have the end. we'll meet in a week and compare impressions. she will ask how it ends, i will ask who all these people are.
we rode our bikes over to the statue of the angel at the foot of the mountain. late, as usual, we arrived to find everyone waiting. a clutch of hipsters, who i'm starting to understand are just today's normal youth. normal kids with healthy bodies and open futures. shitty slang, easily hurt feelings, and for the most part decent senses of humour. i still feel like an interloper, but it's mostly in my head.
we climbed the mountain in the dark, going up the wooden stairs and winding packed earth paths. we finally arrived at the top in a clearing, i was fucking feeling the climb, and very aware that i've spent the past six months sitting on my ass beside various hospital beds. being clean normal kids, fucking picnic blankets were spread out. we lay back and did our best to watch the meteor shower, the perseids making a brave show of things and occasionally streaking visibly despite all of the light pollution.
there were ghost stories, believe it or not. dep wine and talking, knots of kids. around one cait was dragging, so she julie and i walked back down the mountain in the dark. we unchained our bikes and split, cait to the east, julie to the south, and i went west. felt a little epic. i biked home fast, feeling good, taking corners really wide and riding down the centre of the lane. sometimes it feels so good to just ride my bike, i forget that i can simply go do that if i'm bored or anxious or just need to get out of my slimy un-airconditioned apartment.
i've worn down the fillings on my back teeth from grinding at night. i'm picking holes in everything i touch - it's going to be a while before i feel like i'm back up above water, but i suppose that's normal. on the other hand, i don't really want to invest too deeply in the idea of emotional recovering. i fear that i would use it as an excuse to lie listless, doing nothing, waiting for betterment, claming i was resting.
i certainly do need to rest, but i also need to grab ahold of the world that seems to be spinning by me.
today i worked in a cafe, typing out SEO garbage on my laptop. i ended up in a conversation with the waitress who had been diagnosed with breast cancer, and now bone cancer. she looked fearful while we talked. she sat in a chair, pulling her lips and looking at the ceiling, trying not to cry, aching for me to notice and come over, comfort her. usually i would, but i didn't. i sat in my place and worked, earphones on. we spoke again as i left, but i felt that i'd failed to reach out to her in the way she had hoped, that the overtures of hospital-story-trading had not really given her any comfort, any sense of connectedness.
i came home and cleaned my apartment, listened to crass, watched the sun go down through the ivy that grows over my bedroom window. when it was dark, i biked up to the plateau and met cait. we drank water in her drawing room, her persians lounged on the table, and we made plans for our upcoming book club. we're reading 'the captive of gor' i think. some terrible quasi sci fi erotica novel from the 80's that she found for a dime. we didn't have two copies, so we preteneded it was a wishbone and ripped it in half along the spine. she has the beginning, i have the end. we'll meet in a week and compare impressions. she will ask how it ends, i will ask who all these people are.
we rode our bikes over to the statue of the angel at the foot of the mountain. late, as usual, we arrived to find everyone waiting. a clutch of hipsters, who i'm starting to understand are just today's normal youth. normal kids with healthy bodies and open futures. shitty slang, easily hurt feelings, and for the most part decent senses of humour. i still feel like an interloper, but it's mostly in my head.
we climbed the mountain in the dark, going up the wooden stairs and winding packed earth paths. we finally arrived at the top in a clearing, i was fucking feeling the climb, and very aware that i've spent the past six months sitting on my ass beside various hospital beds. being clean normal kids, fucking picnic blankets were spread out. we lay back and did our best to watch the meteor shower, the perseids making a brave show of things and occasionally streaking visibly despite all of the light pollution.
there were ghost stories, believe it or not. dep wine and talking, knots of kids. around one cait was dragging, so she julie and i walked back down the mountain in the dark. we unchained our bikes and split, cait to the east, julie to the south, and i went west. felt a little epic. i biked home fast, feeling good, taking corners really wide and riding down the centre of the lane. sometimes it feels so good to just ride my bike, i forget that i can simply go do that if i'm bored or anxious or just need to get out of my slimy un-airconditioned apartment.