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I was going to entitle this column 'are you ready for a dirge', but I thought I would wait until you had gone to the effort of pressing the ever enticing solstice key. Who could resist coasting?
The dirge:
Have you ever seen that mike leigh movie "naked"?
Everything.
Everything.
EVERYTHING.
Could I sink lower? Could I fall harder?
These are all rhetorical questions I'm asking you, and I'm stalling.
I (do I say this all the time) don't know what I'm writing yet, but I know I need to write to you.
My acquaintance of eleven years, fred champion, has a band. It is called glow in the dark scars. On jane's bitchin' jaguar's sound system - with the sunroof open -the front two windows all the way down
- I blast some of their songs.
Currently I like "drunk, stoned, called you on the phone. I didn't know what to do.... crawled on the bed just to pet my cat... and I know you think I'm sly...money shot fade to black... I'm still drunk and stoned and all alone. I sit. I cry. I hate my life, and it's all because of you".
It is a fun song to listen to in my state.
I have been a bit angry these last two days. This is a nice change from the passive doormat i've been. I would even say I've felt a bit crazy - but crazy in that way that you un-certifiably insane are. I can't tell. It could have been kevin's pot.
I took a lovely road trip on Sunday. In my car, I don't take road trips. It's really a point A to point B sort of vehicle. I call her a beater, but I love going from point A to point B when I need/want to.
Jayne's jag, fred's cd, and I went up the Pacific Coast Highway. We were going to go to Big Sur, but I somehow got off track and ended up on Oxnard. It's a sweet town. I saw black people for the first time in a while. It made me think of home.
I was at Griffith Park on Saturday. That was a fucker. I took Daisy with me. She loves road trips and parks. We sat. She looked around and chased bees on the long leash I allowed her. She didn't seem pissed that I didn't play ball with her. She seemed happy. I drank canned budweiser and smoked about fifty american spirit organic lights.
I think i have downgraded to lights, but I don't know as I just call it by the colour. I was orange and now I'm light yellow. The lady said they were organic (she was out of orange), but I don't know. Now she considers it "my brand". It is a small head shoppe on abbot kinney that I buy my evil habit's instruments.
I'm not sure if I'll get my apartment. The potential landlord wants to have a talk with me.
Fuck. It's my credit. I have horrible credit. When i thought I would be with mark forever (and yes, I likely would have done it anyway) I took the fall and said fuck you to the debt. Damn the consequences.
What did I care? I would always be with mark and could use his good name to enhance my future needs/wants.
Well, here is a consequence I damned.
I'm not going to cry. The show must go on.
Today, I was listening to that dinosaur junior song that laments "you're not going to get me through this are you".
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