And all I have to say about it is
[Listening to: Ryan Adams, "Come Pick Me Up"]
Don't fret precious I'm here,It's weird how bad ideas work. How they kinda get into your head sometimes and just ..sit there.
step away from the window
and go back to sleep..
I keep buying these lottery ticketsIt's one of those things -- this idea that inside me that not going through with things will somehow lead to missing out on some sort of grand experience. Like the week I don't buy that ticket my numbers will surely win it all.
even though I know they'll never win
Tip the waitress
Drink it down
Go back home.
I'm an uncle again!
But I couldn't.In a word, she was stunning. Tall, with long legs wrapped tight in form-fitting jeans that disappeared underneath a sweater and a short denim jacket that served a sense of fashion more than any protection against the elements. The kind of woman who makes you notice things you wouldn't normally see, like the shade of her lips, or the curve of her calf. We caught glances now and again as we browsed, her Asian features becoming more and more hypnotizing to me as each moment passed.
I could talk to her.But the words wouldn't form. The needle wouldn't thread, no matter how much I turned the thought over in my mind. Perhaps it was the weight that this particular winter has brought in it's wake. Or maybe it was the gift held in my hand and the emotions intertwined to the ribbons it had been wrapped inside. But most likely I think it was just me still being me -- regardless of the changes I've been through or any sense of boasting I might want to try and believe about myself.
I could say something.
I stayed behind my window
and I watched her fly away.
I heard the winterthru the eveningFor a while there all I wanted was this break from work. Worn down, burned out, pulled in all directions like leaves on a water's surface. I just needed time away, time to myself, time to try and recharge, regroup, and recover.
I saw the winterthru the trees
Knee deep in silence
Immune to the world around me
Winterthru a crack in the door
Winterthru the bones of the poor
November's wind, December's wind
Are getting warmer now...
..and then I went Christmas shopping.It's strange that this should be the trigger. That this should be the floodgate. This thing that used to be such an inequity. This issue that too many times became more of an argument than anything else...
I don't know if you ever really understood that about me.Somewhere in the aisles today it began to fall on me. Like snowflakes or rainfall. Gradual at first -- only to become drenching, inescapable. I won't be able to do that this year. I won't get to do that ever again.
..Not like that.
People drifting away..A thought, turning slowly like a diamond shimmering in a window.
But then again, maybe that's the point.
Especially this year..But you make due. You get by.
Or maybe I do.Some nights I get home and just sink into the couch, lose myself into whatevers blinking on the television screen in front of me. Still some other nights I have to get out and find crowds of people, strangers in arms. There are nights in front of computer screens, and phone calls that you hope will never end. I go back and forth on these tides.. wondering why the path isn't clear, going with whatever instinct feels the strongest at the time.
But sometimes I wonder if I'm ready for the cold.
Or if I even know what true cold is like at all.
"My god, this movie sucks so much even Clooney is trying to sneak out and watch something else*."*One of the scenes I was awake for in this film involved George Clooney's character holding a secret meeting in a Washington movie theater with one of his contacts (played by William Hurt). Unfortunatley, the sight of someone walking into a theater to watch another movie after what seemed like endless hours of absolutley nothing happening in the one I was watching was basically too much for me to handle, so it wasn't so much something spoken during the course of my evening as it was shouted out loud for all to hear.
Apparently government and oil company
corruption in Iran isn't just widespread,
it's also boring as shit, too.
Sometimes there's aThings have been really heavy lately. Stress here, stress there. The clouds all around me on a bunch of fronts seem to be getting darker and darker. What's worse is that it's starting to effect everything around me. I'm not answering email, I'm finding myself coming home at all hours of the night and then just falling asleep on the couch only to wake up hours later to the sound of the remote falling onto the floor and the TV blaring some informercial. Next thing I know I'm half awake saying things to myself that make no sense like:
manband - I won't say a hero, 'cause what's a hero? But sometimes there's a manband. And I'm talkin' about the Dude here; sometimes there's a man who, well, he's the man for his time'n place. He fits right in there -- and that's the Dude, in Los Angeles. ...and even if he's a lazy manband, and the Dude was certainly that -- quite possibly the laziest in Los Angeles, which would place him high in the runnin' for laziest worldwide--but sometimes there's a manband.. Sometimes there's a manband.
"Esteban, is that you?"But through it all there are sometimes these rays of sunshine that seem to break through the growing tempest. Letters from friends far away, christmas socks, rings like snowglobes with glitter inside worn on someone's toe -- things like that. Little flashes of ok sprinkled amidst the rising tides of things that suck.
Wow, I lost m'train of thought there. But..
-- aw hell, I done innerduced him enough.Nothingface is back!
What I ended up with was something called "Citrusmint"Maybe it's because I wasn't fully prepared for the shall we say, unique taste combination that comes when you fuse peppermint with orange juice -- but all I can say is thank god for it, because otherwise the scientist that dedicated years of his life creating this little taste of hell might have otherwise kept himself busy building a death ray.
Stone skinned bulletproof supersoldiers? -- ViagraI mean sure - a cure for cancer sounds dandy and all, but what's that next to those little strips you can put on your nose at night to stop snoring, eh?
Flying robots that turn into cars? -- Segway
Exploding Fembots (with guns in their Jumblies) -- RealDolls
Global Thermonuclear War -- The George Foreman Grill