I should be working at this moment. I feel devoid of meaning, lacking all resourcefulness. When pieces of paper lie about where my time is to be spent, legally. Then I drop an atom bomb on my chances for a ridiculous reconnaissance. (But I found out I was born on a wednesday). Why do I suck at talking to people when I am genuinely interested in them? Why do I worry about how I'm coming off... I realize the first impression was the best, without fail, therefore the hardest part is over. Go out to a baseball game. Kiss cam. Everyone in attendance aware of their awful team but screaming wild and stupid at the inevitable defeat. Though watching the mariner's cap twenty something runs against the rangers was awesome and filled my heart with hope. It is all possible. I failed in conversation. I'm new to the system and I still try to figure out my purpose in the environment. I'll be curious to know if I was needed during these few hours. I wonder aloud weekend plans! I cut off ties. I am alone here! Sell yourself! Be a salesman. Get the numbers, the contacts, piece it all together in perfect union. Let everything whim be fulfilled. And every pretty girl satisfied in conversation but there are gaps between what is thought and what is said. It is made very clear. But holy shit I am a smart kid. Why do I feel like I need to prove it? Or am I being hazed? I'll try to get the best opportunity. I wished her a good morning. Walked on. But returned. This coffee, here, made with care. I tried my best not to spill any on my shirt. (I nearly would have an extra 8.10 in my account. right now.) I'll try my best to keep this day as productive as it would have been. I could have added 32.40 to the account. To pay for the future date with a barista or two. My brain would not allow it to happen. I recoiled and fell into a pile before her powerful eyes. I exploded, internal. Have a great day. They say. I just embarrass myself further, feeling like I turned fully red. Spilling drinks and knocking candy or magazines off of shelves. How many times do I have to go in there before my tongue is able to articulate the right words? All this talk about finding the right words. I need to study a dictionary. Syntax and grammar and semantics. Study it all again, is my skull thickening? Or is this a different kind of learning? Why do I feel so stupid every day? Probably because I don't understand the working environment of a grocer and I hardly understand subtle differences created in protools. Feeling like a dumbass. But it's okay. This is where the real life learning comes in. Here is where I should learn about how to deal with people in real world environments. This is no longer a simulation and suddenly everything changes. It is pretty easy for me when I feel that warmth. That excitement for life and the endless possibilities in between. First and foremost I must continue to write and write well, with passion, daily otherwise my whole existence will crumble.
A sudden vision, while driving through a hot residential neighborhood, of a split scene in The Song Remains the Same where a gambling man's head falls off after his crew is shot up by gangsters with tommy guns, and rainbow colors spray out of his neck in thick streams. I look around, hoping there are no mind-readers in my immediate vicinity, though I knew that some people would be stoked on the reference. Until then I'll hide away all my old obsessions. (When did I become the bandwagon guy? What is this shit?)
I want to jump up and land miles away, in the ocean. Swimming strong with the current to increase my speed. It is all about momentum for me. When we lose it. I lose control of myself. I need everything happening at once, in cahoots, together, in unison. Everything laying itself out in front of me to successfully accomplish. I need to sing. To play. To write. To read. To talk. To smile. To swim. Sleep well and in regular intervals. Kiss the right girls. Play the right notes and learn where to fidn the best bass teacher in town. How to save money. Save monet.
How can I possibility save Monet?
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Enter the hotel california, speeding down bluffs and hair pin turns toward the ocean. The first time a sunny beach while residing. This is more than what I needed. The old california vibe with parrots flying overhead and fresh lemonade from the lemon tree close by, face stretched into a permanent tight smile but she is endearing and lovely. We agreed that neither of us would ever want to live beyond our own means. (if big money is made, give it away or save it for adventures there is no need to stockpile garbage and let it build it over the years. my own sentimental crap does not have to exist forever).
bring me the black lights and the beer cans. Lets lay in bed and watch a movie. The black light on the stereo. The fan overhead. A small, harmless screen. The lighting will be sufficient for our burning eyes. Shed your skin and peel back those scars. They won't appear anymore. It's up to you to bring them up. Acknowledgement of past truth, or just allow a shallow understanding of past. Because, after all, we are all in present, standing with two feet below our bodies. Or laying in a beautiful tangle under the sheets as the movie continues.
Censorship. Animal planet.
Mets beat the Dodgers.
They dodged victory.
Sex ed.
Beach towels.
"To meditate on something or to be vacant"
Obvious eye contact.
Toothpick and peppermint.
"I'm stealing these."
A big smile returned.
80 days give or take until I can enter that new scene.
With long blonde hair.
mine will be styled.
with saltwater spray
and sand mites.
writing so blunt.
nearly hit someone.
let them hit me.
laugh at hysterical concepts.
a teddy bear and a little boy.
vivify.
"outings vivify learning for children"
sheltered case. will this kid be saved?
I see myself at his age.
Smoking and drinking
incredulous.
Continue hating the taste in your throat
the feeling in your lungs
child.
you will become a doctor
and save the world
while we swim in the shallows.
