Retired

I am so tired. It’s getting cold again too. It’s the weekend in about 5 more hours. With that goal in mind, everything is just fine.

My little work buddy is leaving for good today, which I deem appropriate to mention here because I only blog at work anymore. Emptying his office, he brought me a lamp with a squiggly stand, a tiara and a feather pen that looks like it came straight from the piano of Liberace. How do people collect those kinds of things in their offices? Where did he get a gold tiara and and a Liberace feather, and why? Why do I have a lameass ball cap on the top of my computer? And an orange-striped beany cat with a hawaiian lei around it’s neck? Weird cluttery sh*t. I hate stuffed animals on tops of computers and here, I’ve got one and didn’t even realize it. Now I’m lame.

Lots of times posts suck. But sometimes, they do a great job moving the last post down a few inches.

I am so tired. But I’m going out again tonight in the muddle of all of this Super Bowl ballyhoo. I live in the Smog City; I gotta support it. Take it all in. I realize I keep talking about the SB, but truthfully it’s not anything I really care about. It’s just that it’s 3 steps away and an easy topic when none reside in me, worth repeating, at present.

Have a great weekend. I’ll tell ya if I win any cash. You do same. Make lots of bets on Sunday. Big stupid ones.

Good Dope, Good Fun

Some days, I just can’t help it. I automatically dose on Jason Pierce and allow his poetry to steer my thoughts through some billowy, drafty hall of the emotive over reason. Of Intense Emotional Resonance. It just happens. No, I haven’t listened to him in a number of months. I know it all though, through years of careful medication.

So in discussions with my soul today, while listening to the briefing from her recon trip to the broken-ness on Duval Rd., his words were the ones that most readily came to my mind without effort: “Nothing hurts you like the pain of someone you love. There ain’t nothing you can gain that prepares you enough. Nothing hurts you like the pain of someone you care about. If I could take it all myself you know I would without a doubt…”
And my soul said softly, “I know.” And, “What on earth can I do? How can I wrap myself all around her and make it all better?”

It’s been such a harried, crazed week. A remarkably good one though, on my end. I move and go and intend and pause, sleep a couple of hours, then go again. Like you all do; whatever. The theme, however, for the week is bravery. Regardless of how many complete strangers I’m having conversations with during Houston’s Mardi Gras of Super Bowl parties, it has been strangely, literally coming up. About “how you just have to go out there and do it”. The phrase should be cliche by now; I’m loathe to even repeat it, so forgive me. But the real bravery in my mind is being conveyed by this one, who has done and is doing something that I am truly not brave enough to do. Something I’ve flat-out refused to do in the spirit of survival and taurinian-obstinance. And some ask me to try; two, especially, are now. But I’ve been balking at it for years. I’ve been building pup-tents instead of houses. Tee-pees instead of a homestead. Planning for time limits and impending boredom and looking -always- for the escape route. Building constructs, obstacles, barriers, reasons, excuses, blah blah bladdity blah – whereas she just up and did it, all the way, gave herself completely. Me and my managing, my safeguarding…in stark contrast these days to she and her giving. Her trusting and her immaculate, thoughtful, HUGE giving.
A sublime education for the enchanted.

It is like cheating I guess, reading up when we haven’t spoken in so long. Especially this, where I “immodestly tell so much.” And I know it is too weird-of-ramblings, a turn-off even. But hell. It just is.

Yo, Check It –

“Manipulation? To some extent. Some kids aren’t even aware that they’re participating in a word-of-mouth marketing effort on an unprecedented scale. Roughly 1% of the U.S. teen population is involved.”

“The conservative movement, which at various points has felt slighted, ignored, abused, dismissed and otherwise thoroughly adrift in coverage by New York’s “media elites,” has finally found a place in The New York Times. Sort of.”

Total Crap
New, from the journalist query line:
**3. CHILD DEVELOPMENT: EMO AND KIDS – DENVER POST (US)
Emo, the newish quasi-genre of alt-rock, has changed the way kids rely on music. It’s always been a therapeutic release, but now kids are relating to music like never before thanks to the wide-open, straightforward lyrics and the community around the music. I’m looking to speak with people who can talk on this topic from an informed perspective.
Need leads by 04:00 PM US/Mountain JAN 28
Rick Baca Phone: 303-820-1394 Fax:
303-820-1679 URL: http://www.denverpost.com

**7. HEALTH: CLOTHES THAT MAKE YOU SICK – OXYGEN MAGAZINE (US)
I’m working on an article called, “Are Your Clothes Making You Sick?” I need to speak with M.D.s and other experts about the dangers of thong underwear, ill-fitting shoes and light-colored clothing in the summer. I’m also looking for more ideas for dangerous clothing and women-on-the-street (ages 20-40) who have experienced adverse health effects from their clothing. Oxygen is a monthly print fitness magazine for women. No phone calls, please. I’m a freelancer.
Need leads by 03:00 PM US/Central JAN 29
Linda Formichelli <4nnjoxn02@sneakemail.com>

Albert Knows

“A human being is part of a whole, called by us the Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest– a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”

the thing about the above, is that it’s probably what i needed to remember today. small, small worlds, you know? small fkkin worlds. affecting change or ideals or a damned reaction for chrissake, in the few persons nearest me, has been a desire too strong and too encumbering to swallow. i don’t want to change them. i don’t want to manipulate to my preferences. but at the same time, i don’t want to care so damned much. the boulder i’ve been under is called disappointment. and the snow on top of it, that pushed the boulder onto the backs of my legs while I lay dreaming, is called, [dare i say it?!] pain.

i am a logical human being before i am a woman or a girl or a child or an adult or an object or a desire or thought. i am thinking. i am trying not to be a type – an insane-o woman, a stupid kid, an amateur at life. i might be ignited, inspired to react, but i try to think through it and identify where from it i inflamed from – cauterize it, sterilize it, step 300 feet away from it, view it from the mountain instead of from the map. so i am pulled, i have the want to react with passion…but i try so hard not to. because what i really want is to be wise. to be trusted, to be good and right and sound. to be strong. to effect the desired outcome.

i am not those things. but what i keep learning is that we make our worlds smaller and smaller by the day. like our happiness is actually tied to the whims of that person or to the chances of that circumstance. how limiting. isn’t the truth that we’re not even realizing the truth? i know, to a degree, what i want. i know who i love. i know who’s in and who’s out. so all the rest, i needed to remember this morning, should be freed from my “optical delusion of consciousness.”

call an ant an ant, and leave him where i found him. douse the campfire, pack it up and hike to the summit, even if i do have to acclimate for weeks on end. that’s where the view – my view – is anyway.

“I want to find a new girl like that- a little blue, you know? Not depressed or anything, but just a girl who’s still searching, feeling everything around her and constantly asking herself questions. And I want her to run from me- stop, let me catch up for a short while, then pick up the pace again, create some distance, make me feel her gone- but only until I can’t run anymore- breathless, hands on knees in the pouring rain, staring up at her-”

I hrrr ya.

Let’s

Time to embrace all of this change. Time to forgive all of this frustration, self-delusion, slights of indecision and out-right anger. Time to let it go.

Time to sit back and watch. Time to get back in touch. Time to quit fighting them off like they’re thieves of my future and of my soul. Because they just want to be around you. And they have no idea what they’re doing, and they’re just reacting, dictating their behavior from a misguided analyzation of what they think they’ve read from you.

Time to leap for joy and for sunshine and for possibility and for plans. Time to help her plan. Time for travel and for staying grounded. Time for running through the goddamn trails again, goddamit.

Look. Let’s just embrace. And then, let’s just replace our fear with our faith.

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense.”

i caught the caucuses. i caught the state of the union too. i made my poor friends call me back because i was “in the middle of it”. and i have thoughts. but i’ve been in a cloud-world since my return from last weekend’s activities. though i’ve been bleeding to write, bursting to honestly, i’ve been more compelled to leave the office for something restful. my bed is honestly a nest – a nest that wants me in it, with a book, with the paper, with his manuscript. i don’t know how people work themselves to death at a job, because i can’t stand it. i can’t make myself stay and finish up in an empty office. i’m a flake, i guess, wanting to run from the building and fly through the night.

what’s gonna happen to us, darling? how much work will this new-thing be? everything’ll be alright, right?

right. out.
running, tearing, screaming though soundless.

Has visto?

’cause i ate it right up when we walked through.

Rain Driving

D’s trying to tell me that Austin is closed this weekend. He said he heard it on the wire.
But I know it’s not. I know that the zoo at 3625 Duval Rd. is never closed, especially to me.