into the bathroom to clean the glasses and standing there with the water trickling, hearing it trickle into the stainless steel sink and my watch’s quartz ticking became apparent and i’m at a 3/4 pose and i’m watching my watch tick backwards in the mirror and i’m pretty sure that if i’d been focused enough, or a little less focused, i would have just found a portal into some other realm.
two in one day? unheard of. but this is really just a supplement to ensure you that the feeling of this morning has only deepened and evolved into a completely restless ragey madness.
perhaps just bored? just tired? just both, most likely. pushed to pull apart. all this despite listening to heavy doses of whatever i can get my hands on and peeling my fingernails apart and rushing downstairs for cigarettes whenever i deem it necessary.
i wish i could find my head somewhere in this mess. i hope and also don’t hope that this is all just a matter of not having slept nearly enough. i can’t even find anything to spend my fucking money on in order to try to alleviate some of the energy. that is the sad state of affairs.
very angry today. (hungry too).
don’t know why. nothing triggered — though this morning when clearing away the negative vestiges of some nightmare and feeling the relief of “thank god it was just a dream” i realized that there was lingering evil from the night before and perhaps that is pressing down on me today. just another cubs loss, but this one just stupid. you figure with the lead 6-4 in the bottom of the 9th that gordon won’t give up a 3-run, 2-out, 2-strike home run to preston wilson, but you’d be wrong. dead wrong.
and fuck, that’s just gotta be what’s pushing me down low today and so i can feel things affecting me. the feeling is so minute — consciously, i just can’t feel too much about it. either the cubs will win or lose. or win their division. or not. or whatever. they’ve lost before, sure. i’ve been there.
but somewhere in the back of my head, i think it must have just flipped the “crap mood” switch and so here i am. testy.
and nothing to show for it.
An imagined conversation:
“Grandma thinks you’re gay.”
“Me? Gay? I’d have to be better dressed; better looking; and better at sucking dick.”
It can be no coincidence that the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences is NATAS…or SATAN backwards. Who thinks up these names, and then these acronyms without….well, without thinking? We all know that most television programs are created (or “pitched”) by the Dark Lord, but for him to put his name right on it is just plain offensive.
Remember the good old days when the evil plots of Lucifer were hidden, subtle, nefarious things? These days he’s just not putting any effort into it. It’s a sad day when Satan’s schemes are so easily seen through. This is the lowest point in evil-doing since the advent of 666 Cough Syrup.
Ad at Shea Stadium behind the batters box:
“Buick: It’s All Good”
It strikes me that Buick is the last car company that can say something like “It’s All Good.” That’s like, “Buick: It’s Whassssup!” “Buick: It’s the Shiz-i-niz-it!” “Buick: Booyaick!”
Aren’t Buicks the cars of the middle-aged middle-class who can’t afford BMWs or Mercedes? Who are they looking to attract with the phrase “It’s All Good?” Who came up with that phrase? Rather: what ad-man decided to appropriate that phrase? Look at their website for crap’s sake. Does that website say, “It’s All Good?” No! It says, “Everythings a-okay, Bob. Mary and I will be over for that backyard barbecue just as soon as I mow the lawn and take Timmy Junior to Little League.” It’s all about neutral colors and blanditude.
I say this to you, Mr. Buick, it is NOT all good! Not a bit all good at all!
she walked sideways through the door
and halfway down the stairs
a question on her mind
but no words on her lips
i’m not sure i made a sound
what what? back in the waking working world? what what indeed. here we go again (turn it up) —
so i find myself with this very decent group of folks, there’s no i in team, i find myself thinking
am i gushing far too often — please try to understand, it might just be a lack of sleep, cutting down my
defensive mechanisms. but then again, it could be true that i’ve somehow stumbled across the 7 people
in the professional world that don’t annoy the shit out of me — it seems impossible
and i know none of you thought it would happen. and i know none of me thought it would happen.
just goes to show.
jen’s mention of the http://www.poetry.com crapola got me thinking back to those days when words did flow from my hands — when the logo on my wrist meant a little more. perhaps i’m just expecting too much from myself. but i find it hard to even put down words (see also: lack of entries here) much less any words of quality.
dream last night: met some girl and flirting, in the old kinko’s in d.t.e. i knew i’d see cathy there and lo and behold i did. we talked for < 2 minutes, awkward and confusing. she looked like she’d grown up. when i woke up, my first thought was i should have asked if she wanted to have dinner with me so i’d know what my sub/unconscious thought she would say.