(no subject)
My life seems to be moving with a slow-grinding intensity. Things are calm -- I read, I write, I knock about on the djembe (when Michelle hasn't taken it away with her) and the guitar... and then shuffle back and forth through the halls of my apartment to some or another bit of pleasing music. Lately I am particularly fond of that old arrogant jazz: Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie (the bird) Parker, Miles Davis and Billie Holiday. But I keep having these encounters which are fantastic and obscene! I played usher at a show Michelle was stage managing (brilliant AND funny for those who are interested) And the director sits beside me and kisses my mouth with lips as firm and unyielding as a gargoyle's. Then he kisses me again, this time all soft with a tongue. I of course, did not respond particularly well. I am more accustomed to ambushing people with kisses than suffering the reverse, though I should state that there was something very pleasing about the whole thing -- it was a flattering breed of offensiveness. That aside there are all of the typical winks and intimacies (that I most likely construct) between strangers, and this boy with some sort of debility that makes him rock back and forth who is always gallant on the bus and allows me to choose my seat first so he can kiss my cheek and pinch my knees and his friend who can hardly speak that races to the seat next to mine but always loses.
And these are all wonderful things, but I am getting restless. I am spending more and more time pacing about the halls hearing those melodies less and less. I have done my very best to entertain myself with secrets and strangers but I think I really might need to get away for a while -- finally succumb to the "change of pace" cliche. I suppose this could all be resolved if I would actually commit myself to make some friends -- but I am really very bad at maintaining that sort of thing -- as most of you know.
Oh, and I am engaged now. That is all.
And these are all wonderful things, but I am getting restless. I am spending more and more time pacing about the halls hearing those melodies less and less. I have done my very best to entertain myself with secrets and strangers but I think I really might need to get away for a while -- finally succumb to the "change of pace" cliche. I suppose this could all be resolved if I would actually commit myself to make some friends -- but I am really very bad at maintaining that sort of thing -- as most of you know.
Oh, and I am engaged now. That is all.