| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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i haven't talked to anyone today. well, that's not entirely true. i talked to a neighbor of mine briefly. he asked me if i knew anyone who wanted to buy a guitar. i said no. i asked him how much he wanted for it. i laughed at the price he told me. he thought i laughed because it was too low and gave me a higher price. i laughed a lot more. i said, shit man, i'll give you $100 for it. he said, 'today?'. cash money, bro. so i bought a guitar. i got a great deal. on the drive to the ATM he spun the radio dial to the classical station. it was the baroque lunch or something. he started going off on the movement of the music and Oo! did you hear how they changed keys with the triplets? polyrhythms. i think the kid has memorized the glossary to some music theory book and randomly puts sentences together figuring i don't know the difference. i pretend to be stupid around these people. i don't know what else to do. he claims to be an excellent drummer. he often asks if he can come sit in with my band. i made the mistake of telling him that our drummer sucks. we're listening to the classical radio and it is some waltz and the kid is getting into it and talking about movements and then he starts counting off the beat ONE... two... three... four? the 'four' comes out with its tail between its legs and dribbling piss like a well beaten dog. his brow furroughs and i can see the mental scratching of his head. "where'd the fucking four go?" his interior monologue sputters. i feel like saying IT'S A FUCKING WALTZ, but i don't. i wouldn't know a waltz from the hole in my ass. so, that was social interaction but somehow not satisfying. around 7p i started brewing the desire to talk to someone with a brain. anyone. just some human interaction. it builds and builds all day, but ultimately i fail to do anything about it. and it's ok. what i really want isn't to talk to someone with a brain, but to talk to someone with a brain and a body that is soft and warm and fits well in my arms. calling some ex-fiancee of mine tonight would have hardly solved that. or, well, yeah. it could have solved it literally but not correctly. correctly. i have a wedding to go to tomorrow. saturday. my friends are dropping like flies. weddings. i was supposed to get married first. originally. i was supposed to get married last weekend, too. what is my rush to get married? it's been a little over 50 days since i was last with someone. this is about the time when the event happens that leads to the meeting of the next one that leads to a whirlwind of sex and joy and hope and, occassionally, a marriage proposal. i'm avoiding it. and don't tell me not to. my parents, i love them. my mom says i shouldn't expect my dad to live much past 60. she's always said that. the man is fit but diabetic. and 58. when he had a stroke a while back i realized how unready i am for this kind of shit. i don't have a grandkid for my dad. i don't know if i'm going to get one to him in time. i doubt i'll ever know him, or that he'll ever know me. i know this but i can't do anything about it and regardless it will turn into regrets. and then there is my mom. what does she have but him? me. the answer is me. my brother is 3000 miles aways and the answer is me. but, where are my responsiblities? what the hell kind of life is this, running along find and then suddenly getting rubberbanded back to that hometown that you've had a love/hate relationship for nearly 30 years? i have dreams about england. i know i only remember the good things now, but damn. i'd like to go back and live there. maybe. or somewhere else. but you know, elsewhere. not necessarily a distance where a weekend trip home is feasible. so i think, what would i need to do? how often do i need to see the parents? a week or two every couple of months. ah, so, see. whereever i go, i want to have the money to make the trip six times a year, and, miraclously, a job that allows me that freedom. so, in other words, i'm stuck. by my ethic. which is ok. this is a nice place to live. good people. we're smarter, on average, than the socal people. 300+ days of sun a year. pretty people. great weed. |
Do what comes natural, do what you want. Do what you can and don't worry about the rest. That's all. |
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i saw your.... |
we played that tonight. it will be made live. |
LS |
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