Another update. In two parts. The first part is one I forgot from 8-30, the other from yesterday. I should apologize in advance for the ssecond one which is kinda like a big buncha emotional vomitus. Don't think I'm suicidal or anything, OK? I just get depressed once in a while. It's healthy. I wasn't gonna put it up, but I said I wasn't gonna edit anyhting, so... Kinda interesting contrast anyways. Here's the first from 8-30:

Man, the Boats are so rad. Many thanks to Ahren for introducing me to them. "I saw her and told her I was a sucker for a pretty face, and she said in that case, let's take a walk, sucker." Music like this makes me feel like I'm in high school again, which I've been feeling like anyway (I AM in high school after all). Feeling open and vulnerable. Clumsy and uncertain. I used to hate those feelings, but now there's a certain nostalgia attached to them. A little experience, a little confidence that lets me know that I'm OK, no matter how stupid or clumsy I feel or act. Knowledge of self. And before I sound too self complimentary, I should note that it's taken me over 30 years to get it.

I took a walk last night after a couple of sakes here at home (Still a funny word for me). Yellow sodium lights poured down from the jungle of wires and poles that sew the city together from above. Voices of young children bounced from the school next door, and the smell of gunpowder drifted through the narrow streets. And everything struck me all at once. Maybe for the first time I wasn't worried about getting somewhere or shitisthatcargonnahitme or school or anything. Maybe I was drunk. Everything struck me all at once. Alien. Strange. The sky, this orange grey. I don't know this color. These towers, so huge above me, carrying what? information i couldn't understand. These houses, so tightly packed, filled with people I didn't understand. The cars, the streets, the night, the day, the hills, the rice fields, the shop down the street, the open door. Me.

Somethings strike me just the other way, though. Riding home from work just before the rain. A woman on a bicycle with a child sitting on the back. The kid has her arms outstreched. Flying. She curls her arms up slowly to the sky as the first few drops of rain fall. Nothing makes a sound. And I knew those people, I knew their grace and their silence like it was my own for just that moment.


Here's from 9-6:

I can see it on the horizon. Driving towards it but I can't turn the wheel. Like when you're sick, and you know you're going to throw up and there's nothing you can do about it. Do you hold on and breathe shallow breaths, hoping the feeling will go away even though you know there's no escape but release, release through pain? Or do you put your fingers down your throat?

Last night an angel came to me in my dream. My brother, hair curly, at the age of 4 or five. I had cut off his wings, they came off not like bone, but like plaster. Like cutting through clay. He was mad at me for lying about my accomplishments.

[why does that make me sad? What the hell does that mean?]

I'm kneeling in front of this screen, like I might kneel in front of the toilet. Waiting. When will it come? It's there, in my belly i can feel it churning, making me sick. The dark worm, the nest of maggots and spider eggs. In my stomach. I can feel it.

I'm not sure what to call it yet, but it's getting more solid and I can almost know it. Grasp it. Put my hand down my throat. Way down in my stomach there it is. Sadness. Alone. Scared. There it is. There I am.

God! Why can't I just get sick? Why can't I just get this over with and be depressed and then get on with it?

No, i get it now. It's gonna be here for awhile. It needs me. To tell it it's okay. It's all right. i know what I'm doing and everything is going to be okay.

If someone wanted to email me right now that would be great.

There it is. Now I'm crying.