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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The upcoming weekend and dealing with options 2003-04-19 - 12:43 a.m. 
Beyond the bright darkness are porch lights and periodic streetlamps, cultivating youth to pose and reflect; bad wiring adds to the effect. I can close my eyes and see a hundred different dance clubs with various creatures. They are wearing second-skin leather, stitched vinyl, some approximation of flesh made from plants and chemicals. There is a form of suggestion in all these establishments: a flat dimensionless crotch to highlight a perfected make-up routine; push-up pull-out things who crave attention but don't know what to do with it; the occasional older younger man with tinted glasses who deludes himself, waving theoretical physics and words around as if he played the game, as if anyone mistook his arrogance for a big dick.It's quiet here, by contrast. It's only the cat, the house and me for a week. There is a fish but he doesn't get very far, so I include him with the house. It's relaxing here but slow, sad. It reminds me of Boston in the summer: timeless, colors blurring, a sense of unbeing, like luxury solitary confinement or the total lack of appeal an amusement park treat has for a child after they've snacked on it for awhile. It isn't the lack of people that bothers me. Somehow with no people around, it feels like nothing is moving or happening. It helps to imagine (or remember) the very same people I mentioned up above, because it gives me perspective. I can see these places and talk to these people in some delusional way, almost live vicariously. But mind games don't go very far. Part of me hates to admit it, but I have some options open to me for the weekend. I know the route to the independent film theatre down in West Hollywood (only got lost for 3 hours on the first try), or where I can park along interstate 1 and walk across a beach at night. I could enjoy something like that for a little while. Yet, there's something empty about going out by yourself. Somehow having other people with you makes being somewhere as much a bonding occasion as it is an entertainment one. I guess solo missions are nice once in awhile, but when I get in my car and crank the beast into motion I have to wonder, I have to justify why I'm wasting money and time just for my entertainment. Why bother, right? I could just stay home and write, or watch the heat-wave vista of semi-precious lights blink against sky and concrete. I have to wonder and justify how or why, after a year, I'm as alone as I was before. It's not pitiable, just plain. It's also something of a Catch-22: having noone to go out with, one doesn't go anywhere; unless you go somewhere, though, you won't find anyone to go out with. I can name 20 cities--American and otherwise--where this wouldn't be a problem. Too bad one of them isn't mine. It's all an airway concourse of blue lights and bizarre traffic signs that make no sense, leading to the launch strip and airport terminals. You can coast/tax around, fly or park. Part of me hates to admit it, but I have some options open. |
