Sorry for the following sucky entry
I think that to get things straight, I need to step way back from the mess I'm in.
I need to walk slowly. I need to listen closely. I need to write things down and think things over. I need to go home. I need to hug my mom. I need to call it quits for awhile.
I've had these urges lately to have a child. I see them in Park Slope. They are so small and simple. And I want one. I think about bending down to grasp a little hand and walk away with it somewhere. And then I'd go around with the little thing and hang out with it and dress it and give it blueberry muffins and juice and chocolate milk. And we'd be so clean. And we'd have rosy cheeks and we'd only wear sun dresses and sandals (unless it is male, in which case I guess he'd wear pants or something nice). I'd read things to it and play real music for it and it'd be able to talk about these things because some children can do that. And wherever we'd walk, it'd be shady (like, from trees). And breezy. And clean. I wouldn't really need anyone else. Except maybe crack to show it what real people were. They'd come visit us at our one bedroom apartment and we'd talk and watch tv and the child would learn from the best. And we'd play a lot of frisbee at the beach.
But I think having kids is an escape. Like, when you don't know where to go or who to become next, you have a kid and feed them what you already have. So for a few years, you don't need to find anything new, just relive the old. And this is good. Tradition and stuff is good. But I think maybe at seventeen I have more to do. At least, that's what people say. I feel like a child could be great. I'd like the company and the adoration. The kid would like the fact that I have a very similar sense of humor to its own.
I want to drive a car to the Delaware river and go canoing. I want to go to Brazil and get high and jump into a crowd of dancing, singing people. I want to feel good about people again like I did then. I want to be pushed and touched by sweating strangers and like it because it makes me see that we're all so similar. We're all alive. And looking to live the right way. And I think the Brazilians know a lot more about living than we do. They are scary and passionate and it's easy to get caught up in them.
Ipanema beach one day, Anna and I followed the group on the hot, midday sand. The sun was finding its way through the sunscreen I had coated myself with and I was worried. And then we went into the ocean. And the waves were so powerful. We were knocked about, slammed into the sand, spun around and spit out. My bottoms to my black bikini were too big and they kept being pulled off in the surf. It wasn't fun-- wasn't perfect beach fun, but it was wild and we stayed there, fighting the waves off and then diving back into them. And I struggled with my bathing suit. And all along, the sun was burning hot on my neck and shoulders and I knew I was going to pay for this recklessness. An old man warned me about my skin and I left the beach before the group. We walked back to the hotel and I showered on the roof and I felt clean. I smelled like soap and the breeze dried me off while I waited for Anna. Only later that day, I felt warm. The sun had burned me, had left its mark. And I couldn't do anything about it. Aloe vera cooled it off, but nothing could make the redness go away. Only time.
I'm not very good with metaphors. Or with saying what I mean. Or with knowing how I feel. I can only say that I want to not be dramatic. I want to not be serious. I want to be reckless and whimsical and I want to pack as much life into my life as possible. I want to either love people or hate them. I don't want to waste my time with grey area. I want to be open and have everyone tell me how it is. Just tell me. No secrets. Not even the good, beautiful kind. Everyone should know everything and then there would be no speculation. No guessing.
I want to go to two fucking Unicorn shows in three days because I like-- no, I LOVE them. And I love their shows. And I love helena who will accompany me to those shows (and to many more shows...and to college.)
I want to take LSD again, because it was one of the better things I've done in my life. Not as an achievement, but just as something recreational, I guess. It was an adventure. It made me feel good. It made me feel clear. It made me care about myself more and about "casey long" less.
I want to run like crazy. Right now. Until my lungs hurt and my legs collapse under me.
I want it all to be clear.
I need to walk slowly. I need to listen closely. I need to write things down and think things over. I need to go home. I need to hug my mom. I need to call it quits for awhile.
I've had these urges lately to have a child. I see them in Park Slope. They are so small and simple. And I want one. I think about bending down to grasp a little hand and walk away with it somewhere. And then I'd go around with the little thing and hang out with it and dress it and give it blueberry muffins and juice and chocolate milk. And we'd be so clean. And we'd have rosy cheeks and we'd only wear sun dresses and sandals (unless it is male, in which case I guess he'd wear pants or something nice). I'd read things to it and play real music for it and it'd be able to talk about these things because some children can do that. And wherever we'd walk, it'd be shady (like, from trees). And breezy. And clean. I wouldn't really need anyone else. Except maybe crack to show it what real people were. They'd come visit us at our one bedroom apartment and we'd talk and watch tv and the child would learn from the best. And we'd play a lot of frisbee at the beach.
But I think having kids is an escape. Like, when you don't know where to go or who to become next, you have a kid and feed them what you already have. So for a few years, you don't need to find anything new, just relive the old. And this is good. Tradition and stuff is good. But I think maybe at seventeen I have more to do. At least, that's what people say. I feel like a child could be great. I'd like the company and the adoration. The kid would like the fact that I have a very similar sense of humor to its own.
I want to drive a car to the Delaware river and go canoing. I want to go to Brazil and get high and jump into a crowd of dancing, singing people. I want to feel good about people again like I did then. I want to be pushed and touched by sweating strangers and like it because it makes me see that we're all so similar. We're all alive. And looking to live the right way. And I think the Brazilians know a lot more about living than we do. They are scary and passionate and it's easy to get caught up in them.
Ipanema beach one day, Anna and I followed the group on the hot, midday sand. The sun was finding its way through the sunscreen I had coated myself with and I was worried. And then we went into the ocean. And the waves were so powerful. We were knocked about, slammed into the sand, spun around and spit out. My bottoms to my black bikini were too big and they kept being pulled off in the surf. It wasn't fun-- wasn't perfect beach fun, but it was wild and we stayed there, fighting the waves off and then diving back into them. And I struggled with my bathing suit. And all along, the sun was burning hot on my neck and shoulders and I knew I was going to pay for this recklessness. An old man warned me about my skin and I left the beach before the group. We walked back to the hotel and I showered on the roof and I felt clean. I smelled like soap and the breeze dried me off while I waited for Anna. Only later that day, I felt warm. The sun had burned me, had left its mark. And I couldn't do anything about it. Aloe vera cooled it off, but nothing could make the redness go away. Only time.
I'm not very good with metaphors. Or with saying what I mean. Or with knowing how I feel. I can only say that I want to not be dramatic. I want to not be serious. I want to be reckless and whimsical and I want to pack as much life into my life as possible. I want to either love people or hate them. I don't want to waste my time with grey area. I want to be open and have everyone tell me how it is. Just tell me. No secrets. Not even the good, beautiful kind. Everyone should know everything and then there would be no speculation. No guessing.
I want to go to two fucking Unicorn shows in three days because I like-- no, I LOVE them. And I love their shows. And I love helena who will accompany me to those shows (and to many more shows...and to college.)
I want to take LSD again, because it was one of the better things I've done in my life. Not as an achievement, but just as something recreational, I guess. It was an adventure. It made me feel good. It made me feel clear. It made me care about myself more and about "casey long" less.
I want to run like crazy. Right now. Until my lungs hurt and my legs collapse under me.
I want it all to be clear.