Recent Entries Garion born; thinking of doing video logs - 2012-09-01 I'm married, I'm a prospective father, wow I never update - 2012-05-22 Got the job at the NIA; mother complicates wedding plans - 2011-10-13 Scrawl - 2011-08-05 It's never been better - 2011-06-02
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Breakthrough at Charlie's 2002-10-15 - 9:27 p.m. 
The underwater tempo of a football game grazes my shoulder, my ears not bothering with pleasantries. A shoddy neon sign hangs outside Charlie's, red ochre pulsing like some dull oversized mosquito. The old guys nod over at me, smooth mahogany skin blending into the ramshackle bar and the nice tables out in the center. My usual is waiting for me in the corner, a pale light held by this plastic yellow tulip cuping my cheap slice of smoke and intrigue. I can't ever say what I do there. The clientele is decidedly older, husky, hiding underneath deep grey coats and the kinds of sweaters grandparents liked to scare their kids by wearing. I stare down at the table and just wonder awhile, wonder and wander. What has the past four months meant? Have I found what I'm looking for, who I'm looking for? I came across Drew, Jen, pleasantries and sex. Sex. I really miss the sex, but God I miss her even more. There's never any music at the place if the owner can help it. I don't even know who the hell Charlie was, is or if he was just some jazzy idea conjured for the sake of the giant mosquito sign buzzing outside. The entrance dips down slightly, like in Chicago, the wooden door creaking on its hinges that acts like the barman's bell. Like everywhere I enjoy, I promise to make it a regular haunt, remembering it in the twilight moments and forgetting to ever go. Today I came to a breakthrough. I was just sitting, staring into space...and then it hit me. I was having a bitch of a time resolving this conflict between two characters in my newest short story. I had a feeling about this story, ever since it was borne out of some addled D&D subplot I cooked up for tapletop fun awhile back..but it just wouldn't come: my late-term pregnancy, my endearing kidney stone with sonogram pictures. I practically memorized the elements I needed to balance...and then I just stepped back and there it was: the interplay of trust and paternal harshness becoming clear to me. Everything became clear to me...and I just sniffed, smelled, intaking the rich urine and cigarette butts that wafted from the entry way. I'd been thinking too damn much; my main problem with everything...but now my hands danced around the pages and it started clicking like jaws and teeth, bending down and scrapping against meats and fossils in my mouth, passing down into my belly, leaving me satisfied. I nodded to the barkeep, smiling a little as I got up. I'm not exactly a favorite wallflower (I don't buy drinks, I'm poor), but every scene needs a confused white boy artist with bad hair. He smiled back, even nodded. I was moving past a barrier. I even felt motivated to buy books on coding in C++ and a new GRE book for the new essay portion that's become standard. I don't know where I'll find the time, but there's something about this story, even that old bar that gives me faith...buzzing around like some addled mosquito on absinthe. But really, I do miss Jen (or the sex if I wanted to be cute about it). |
