This month… I’m trying super hard to put up a good front. Long walks, lots of vegetables, lots of water, great comedy, milk thistle capsules, all that. Two family losses in a month. The anniversary of Our Love, Our Light leaving us. Things stupid like my 35th birthday, and the anniversary of moving into the city of Buffalo.
Remind me to always/never listen to the Blueprint 3 in June.@10 months ago
Internet stalking, whiskey, staying up past 1 a.m., combining my music and my phone, indoor smoking, any new social networks or blog platforms, sleeping less than 6 hours a night, stranger sex.
This is (almost) 35.@11 months ago
Even mild upswings make me feel invincible enough to love whoever can hurt me the most, and so, in the summer, I ride on the back of a motorcycle down Mulholland Drive. In the fall I climb onto the unprotected ledge of a hotel looming over the West Side Highway. Come winter I don’t fuck with condoms, and by spring I’m forgetting to not to say I love you.
But I’m older, a little. The light is less dazzling, only too bright, and the darkness doesn’t rest. I stop counting fine days. I can act. As long as nobody asks if I’m okay, I’m okay, and at the same time, it can’t be that bad, because who has ever accused me of being a poet." @11 months ago
That one time you practiced a song before meeting me in a park to play me that song on your acoustic guitar.@8 months ago
everything i wrote a couple days ago was wrong. i’m happy. this feels like a future opening up in front of my eyes, in present day.@8 months ago
The scene: a boy from Chicago plays Madden as the Bears on a flat screen in the summertime while you sip a Big Flats. This scene can occur more than once in a lifetime, 600 miles and 2 years apart, turns out.@9 months ago
I haven’t “blogged” at you in a while, Tumb. Sorry ‘bout that. I am not too sure what there is to say to you, though. Here are some things on my mind.
I miss my stupid Angel, first and foremost. No one gets all of the things like she gets all of the things. The Love of My Life. Period, that’s it. I found it. Lucky to say at least that much.
I bounced around town all weekend for comedy and friends. I rode my dumb new bike for 15 miles with two new girlfriends, I went to 5 comedy shows and 1 music show and walked 5 miles and listened to several of the podcasts and drank all of the wine, too. Who says getting old has to suck? My body does right now, a little. But, I have to say: none of the organs have failed, there’s no cancer (yet), there’s no broken bones, and there’s no murdering of THIS body. But: a little sore-ish, sometimes. I think that’s pretty good?
I have plans with a boy in Chicago exactly one week from now. It’ll be dumb and weird and awesome. It’s been 7 Fucking Months. And this boy is one that I once thought, “Well, I love these chubby red-headed kids running around… I might like to have one of ‘em sometime.” A weird thought for this idiot brain to have.
I got to briefly see some old, old comedy friends in town. It’s good to know that being back Home doesn’t fully mean saying Goodbye to everyone and everything of the last decade. It’s key.
Why must our country be so large, BTW? Why CAN’T I just skip off to the West Coast whenevs there’s a good show or a housewarming party or whatever? It’s not fair.
I’m pretty happy just being alone. Because all of my friends live on the Internet. And it’s okay.@11 months ago with 1 note