obligatory morning redux
Woke around one again. My middle bro was back from Florida and wanting to Playstation - fine, except both the power and TV adapter cord are missing. Oh well, I needed to wake up anyways. Everything is so unreal for the first few minutes after I wake up. Tunnel vision, blurred sight, lack of balance or attention. I stagger. It feels like a heavy wet blanket placed under my skin, or perhaps my personal gravity has been turned up a notch. Eating seems like an impossibility, but the hunger is still there. Quick and vicious exercise makes it go away, but often makes me feel bad in other ways. Once at college, I fell out of my bed, a neat trick considering it was a mattress on a five foot-high shelf. Luckily, I hit the desk on the way down. (That can't be a common phrase) The adrenalin woke me up with crystal clarity that morning - maybe I should throw myself off high places more often.
My youngest brother is grinning like a moron and making stupid noises. My middle brother is quietly surly, though I can't tell if it's due to losing baseball games or his inability to find the Playstation cables. He also bought a remote-controlled fart machine, and I know this is just going to end poorly. I think I'm going to smack him if he doesn't stop his passive-aggressive shit.
I really really miss my tongue piercing, but I do appreciate not having one in so far front. Found out that I can pull my 6 gauge earlet out despite the flare, which means that hole's getting larger or more pliable. I might want to shrink it a bit. I feel an itch to get more earrings as well as the long-planned nipple piercings. For my left ear, I'd match the two in my earlobe and then have a cart piecing around the middle of the ear. The bead of the captive bead ring would fit right in the crevice between the outer fold.
everyone talks about it but little is done
It's hot today - when I walked out of my apartment the heat covered me. Surprisingly enough for LA, it's somewhat humid as well. I know if I lay back on anything the sweat will muster and roll down the small of my back, but it's too hot for a T-shirt. Looking at my bare chest in the mirror reminds me of my need to exercise. I don't understand how I can have fat in some areas of my body when you can see my ribs when I breath in and stretch. I still haven't found where my near-empty bottle of vodka went. Could she have just taken it?
kits for beats
I read Jack Kerouac's The Dharma Bums today with Bob lying on the bed purring. The cat's been around for almost 16 years or so, and he finally looks and feels old. This might be his final summer, and I'm trying to fix him in my mind so I'll never forget him. I hate having forgotten Muffin, and Arthur, and Cleo, and Smoky. I think I'm leaving one cat out here - I hate it like nothing else. Tarkitty was his name, and I forgot him because we gave him away. And there was Socks for about a week. She hurt.
I can't accept much of the Buddhist theology in the Dharma Bums. Even if objectively there is nothing and all is non-existent we give the universe meaning. But the joy in life in the story warms me. What a different era when one could hitchhike from one coast to another. And the little insights along the road are nice too. But I think the most precious thing from the Dharma Bums is the description of his mountain travels. It's been way too long since I've gone out of cities and roads and cars. One friend asked me to go hiking with her near the end of school - I'm regretting circumstances interfered. Keeping this in my thoughts will be another story. All the human relationships but a few in the book somehow felt subtly wrong, I don't know why.
What I write, here on E2 and elsewhere, is not what I experience. Even the best words can't give a full sense of what I'm thinking. It is a darkling reflection of my true existence. Yet years from now when I reread the past it will become a major portion of the truth as I know it. I only hope it improves in its temporal evolution.