... Oh, Jesus.
I don't know what I thought Clovis would do to me.
I guess I figured it would be something of a magic trick.
Move back home, where you know everybody and everyone knows your name.
Happiness is in comfort.
I had very selective memories of Clovis.
I idealised this place a bit.
Clovis is nothing what I remembered it.
Gone are the days of being happy doing nothing with friends.
what happened this past weekend?
Knives in the Attic played. That's it.
Yesterday was, indeed, one of my favorite nights in all of life.
Patially because I felt like I was not in Clovis anymore.
I had the privelige of speaking to a cultured young man.
A man who could speak seriously of vegetarianism and veganism.
Whose mundane topics were much more amusing than the non-speaking nature of which Clovis is compromised.
Carmela and I spoke tonight of how people stare at restaurants when you're having a conversation.
There is no culture here.
There is nothing here.
Even more nothing than when I left.
I saw the new wave of Clovis musicians.
They remind me a lot of my highschool experience.
The cool ones who hang out with the older kids.
The kids who dress in Hot Topic clothing and make fools of themselves.
The kids who went in hopes of being seen by those who are less of nobody than themselves.
These kids made me whish I was that age again.
Half of myself wishes I would never have gotten to experience San Francisco.
Then I wouldn't know what I am missing.
I failed to appreciate exactly what the city had for me.
I've been home on week, and already I want out.
I expected Clovis, New Mexico to be one big happy pill.
Instead, I feel even more lost.
Clovis, New Mexico did not turn out to be a giant Prozac.
...I can't even think of some drug to refer to this place as.
I'm getting sloppy again.
I'm drawling my words.
I'm not excercising.
If I don't move back to Clovis, I think I'll give Pheonix, AZ a chance.
It will be much easier once I'm twentyone.
Being of legal drinking age makes things a little easier when you go somewhere new.
I'm having a really hard time accepting the fact that I'm still young, and that I will probably never find true and complete happiness.
I'm at a point in my life where I am completely comfortable with myself.
Yet, I still am not happy.
I mean, I'm joyful and love life, but I don't have a feeling of nirvana in myself.
Not even close.
I keep looking to other experiences and people to give me happiness.
Perhaps that's what I should be doing, and I will find the right thing soon.
Or maybe I need to do a lot more self exploration.
Though I feel I've done quite enough of that already.
No matter how many people I know, I still feel a void.
And my lack of something makes it way easier to fall in love.
I think people think I am exagerating when I say I'm in love with someone.
Maybe I am.
Until I know what real love is, what I feel for some people is love.
Connections, they might be, and strictly connections.
For me, I'm happy calling them love.
I feel in love with a boy last night.
A twentyeight year old drummer boy from Seattle who lives in PHX.
He spoke of music scenes growing, and we joked about pretentiousness.
We discussed music politics and vegetarianism.
And aliean abductions for kegs of beer.
I should probably stop being so lame and go write some folk music.
Then, kids who feel like I do will love me.
By then I'll have found happiness, and my sad folk songs about loneliness and heartache will be sung from back-catalogs and fuzzy memories.
Champagne wishes and caviar dreams.
Soon, I hope I'll know what my lie really means.
Until then, I'll sleep on it.
T.
PS:I totally cheated hardcore on my vegan bullshit.
I had chicken soup, a chicken sandwich, and I shared a brownie sundae.
Hopefully I'll feel like shit in the morning!
I guess I figured it would be something of a magic trick.
Move back home, where you know everybody and everyone knows your name.
Happiness is in comfort.
I had very selective memories of Clovis.
I idealised this place a bit.
Clovis is nothing what I remembered it.
Gone are the days of being happy doing nothing with friends.
what happened this past weekend?
Knives in the Attic played. That's it.
Yesterday was, indeed, one of my favorite nights in all of life.
Patially because I felt like I was not in Clovis anymore.
I had the privelige of speaking to a cultured young man.
A man who could speak seriously of vegetarianism and veganism.
Whose mundane topics were much more amusing than the non-speaking nature of which Clovis is compromised.
Carmela and I spoke tonight of how people stare at restaurants when you're having a conversation.
There is no culture here.
There is nothing here.
Even more nothing than when I left.
I saw the new wave of Clovis musicians.
They remind me a lot of my highschool experience.
The cool ones who hang out with the older kids.
The kids who dress in Hot Topic clothing and make fools of themselves.
The kids who went in hopes of being seen by those who are less of nobody than themselves.
These kids made me whish I was that age again.
Half of myself wishes I would never have gotten to experience San Francisco.
Then I wouldn't know what I am missing.
I failed to appreciate exactly what the city had for me.
I've been home on week, and already I want out.
I expected Clovis, New Mexico to be one big happy pill.
Instead, I feel even more lost.
Clovis, New Mexico did not turn out to be a giant Prozac.
...I can't even think of some drug to refer to this place as.
I'm getting sloppy again.
I'm drawling my words.
I'm not excercising.
If I don't move back to Clovis, I think I'll give Pheonix, AZ a chance.
It will be much easier once I'm twentyone.
Being of legal drinking age makes things a little easier when you go somewhere new.
I'm having a really hard time accepting the fact that I'm still young, and that I will probably never find true and complete happiness.
I'm at a point in my life where I am completely comfortable with myself.
Yet, I still am not happy.
I mean, I'm joyful and love life, but I don't have a feeling of nirvana in myself.
Not even close.
I keep looking to other experiences and people to give me happiness.
Perhaps that's what I should be doing, and I will find the right thing soon.
Or maybe I need to do a lot more self exploration.
Though I feel I've done quite enough of that already.
No matter how many people I know, I still feel a void.
And my lack of something makes it way easier to fall in love.
I think people think I am exagerating when I say I'm in love with someone.
Maybe I am.
Until I know what real love is, what I feel for some people is love.
Connections, they might be, and strictly connections.
For me, I'm happy calling them love.
I feel in love with a boy last night.
A twentyeight year old drummer boy from Seattle who lives in PHX.
He spoke of music scenes growing, and we joked about pretentiousness.
We discussed music politics and vegetarianism.
And aliean abductions for kegs of beer.
I should probably stop being so lame and go write some folk music.
Then, kids who feel like I do will love me.
By then I'll have found happiness, and my sad folk songs about loneliness and heartache will be sung from back-catalogs and fuzzy memories.
Champagne wishes and caviar dreams.
Soon, I hope I'll know what my lie really means.
Until then, I'll sleep on it.
T.
PS:I totally cheated hardcore on my vegan bullshit.
I had chicken soup, a chicken sandwich, and I shared a brownie sundae.
Hopefully I'll feel like shit in the morning!