nines

I turn 30 soon. People ask, ofcourse. Do I care about the number? Yes and no, more no. Mmmk, some days it’s a hell yes. What does it mean? It means things. I’m bloggin bout it aren’t I? The number is there. Age is there, time spent. A good amount of time, apparently. I feel 9 yrs old and 90 years old. I feel completely accomplished, also like I failed deeply. I’m glad I can’t see the former more clearly.

It makes me think about life in the bigger picture. Have to, cuz life isn’t all there yet. I need to learn that it won’t be there until noon of the day after my death. I feel 20, but only like a 30 yr old looking back to 20. Are those thoughts even valid though? As always, all is as it should be. Should I sit and make plans . . . cuz it’s a stepping stone? I hope later that I don’t feel like stepping on this year. That it didn’t involve any stones. Nothing hard, not too big that I can’t get around.

You think that even the gods make plans? I’m thinking they get high, on low pressure systems and lightning bolts. I think they dress funky ass shit - flourescent pants and Cosby sweaters. They wear shoes – they need them too. I think they throw darts but they’re just like you and I, sometimes they put down their water bill money but sometimes it’s just a Tuesday afternoon game. Only science brings the dart to the bullseye.

The artist speaks of the river. The river is next.

I love the gym.

I hate the gym.

wednesday

Woke up feeling stuck. Some edges were grimy. Made bad moves and was paying for them. . . .  counting counting counting, holding holding biting biting biting the tip of the pen. Later on, a caramel mocha. Paid for that too . . .

Do these two boys wanna rob me on the Metro? Are you just pretending to look out the window to lean close! I work my ass off to buy my shit. I deal with adult diapers sometimes. You are not going to take the fantastic things I paid for with that money, my money.

Spoke with an Airborne Ranger for three hours about shame and race and what's raw and watched Trainspotting a little bit.

Met a Betty in an old theater. The kind where many things have happened and people have been swung this way and that, emotionally. She thought I could possibly be under 21. 'Hun, I turn 30 next month!' She is 40, looks 25.

Hit the freeway just in time to watch the Disneyland fireworks.

Almost fell in the shower.