11.05.2007
blueprint for a blackout
i've finally pulled the notebook from my otherwise empty red l.l. bean backpack tonight. that's the backpack that kim ordered for me before our amsterdam trip almost two years ago. i love that backpack. i loved kim more. tomorrow would've been our six year anniversary. six years is a long time. that's what mom said when i mentioned the upcoming universary to her while watching the bc game together the other night. i cannot believe bc was the #2 ranked team in college football. they looked so horrible and eventually lost. i'll not be watching them again anytime soon.
i'm sitting native-amercian style on the floor with my back against my bed and the notebook on my lap. i put a cd on the stereo (loney, dear - loney, noir) but i think the volume is too high. it's distracting me from organizing my thoughts but maybe that's an impossible task no matter what my ears are catching. a remote control would come in pretty handy right now. it's just like johnnie for him to lose it. i can't complain, though. wait...i just did. i can't complain any more than i did 7 seconds ago because at least there was a stereo waiting for me when i came crawling back to the place i spent the first 216 months of my life.
i think i have drew to thank for the fact that i'm notebooking (ewwww, i can't believe i just wrote that) for the first time in forever. he recommended over email today that i just go for it and stop thinking so much. thanks, drew. july 30th. that's the last time i saw him. a monday night. i haven't exchanged real-time voices with him since that monday which is weird. he's left me voicemails and we've emailed some but we used to interact much more frequently and face to face at that. it's completely my fault that things are different now. not only did i run away, but i suck on the phone. i fear the silences. i feel like there's something wrong with me when they occur and i freeze up or say something stupid like "chicken and beef" or laugh so obviously nervously.
my "r's" look so weird. whatever letter precedes them runs right into them. i wish i could run right into someone's arms and stay there until my cheeks were dry. i don't even have a particular person in mind. just about anyone would do. although, if it was someone who didn't know me, well, that would be pretty weird.
"open your mouth and speak whatever your heart's full of."
that lyric just flew right out of the speakers and stabbed me in the chest. i've only listened to this cd once so i wasn't familiar with it enough to brace for that. ouch, yo.
so i'm writing tonight. that's good, right? then why do i feel so hopeless? i guess the music's not helping. i could throw the new britney cd on but if frank hears it, i might be down a brother. messes fascinate me so i was curious and it was before the new car and subsequent wallet-tightening and i like beats and oh, shut up, i don't have to explain myself to you, mr. notebook. i also bought "the blueprint" by jay-z at the same time because jose said it was a must-own and he has a new album coming out so he was on my mind and well, ok fine....i felt stupid walking up to the register with only the britney cd especially on the day of its release. are you happy now, mr. notebook? yes, i am lame but we already knew that.
i gotta thank martha too for this return to notebooking (again? jesus christ, steve). and for so much more. it's amazing to think back to when i first started writing in notebooks (much better, yo) some 10+ years ago and how most of what i wrote then was related to her and how much she confused me. now she's my cheerleader, as she put it, trying to convince me to write my way out of this mess. she has so much going on in her life with keeping a family running yet she somehow finds the time to try to make sure i am ok. how i can ever thank her properly? she tells me it's just what friends do for each other. i don't know.
i'm losing steam which totally sucks because it felt good to do this again. wait - what am i talking about? 10 minutes ago i wrote that this exercise emphasized my hopelessness. my brain is a mess, obviously.
i am an asshole for contemplating posting this online. i guess i have this insatiable need for people to find me interesting or something.
i want to make people laugh again. that's quite possibly what i miss most about new york. through all my sadness and the fucked-upedness of the situation, i did make those people laugh...a lot. they better miss that.
just recently i started telling mom to take a poop when she says she's tired or has a headache or needs to write out some bills. i don't feel comfortable cursing in front of her so i use the pg13 version of a useless suggestion i've been offering since college. she thinks it's pretty funny and tells me i'm nuts which is kinda cool. mom's been great to me these past few months. she really has. it blew my mind that she found "it's always sunny in philadelphia" hilarious so we watched the entire season 1 + 2 dvd's together. i'm not sure many people can say they've done the same with their moms so i found that pretty special. it's just...in new york i felt like somebody but here i'm the same person i was from day one - steve, son of ruth and john of 29 sumner st, canton, ma 02021(4). that's kinda funny. in my entire life, i've never felt like anybody. why did i just write that ny made me feel like somebody, then? i'm a big fat liar, that's why. i wish i knew how to write what i mean. i guess i feel like i'm not the person here who i was out there, whoever the fuck that person was. much better.
yeah, so this is not a novel nor the start of one. maybe i could change the names but who am i kidding? that wouldn't improve the writing or make it any more interesting. i wish i could post this right now and if i had a wirelessly connected laptop, i could. but my car kept dying so i got a new one (idiot) which means no laptop and having to wait until the living room is indefinitely unoccupied before sneaking this onto the website i told mom no longer existed just last night when she asked "hey, do you still have that blog?"
i've finally pulled the notebook from my otherwise empty red l.l. bean backpack tonight. that's the backpack that kim ordered for me before our amsterdam trip almost two years ago. i love that backpack. i loved kim more. tomorrow would've been our six year anniversary. six years is a long time. that's what mom said when i mentioned the upcoming universary to her while watching the bc game together the other night. i cannot believe bc was the #2 ranked team in college football. they looked so horrible and eventually lost. i'll not be watching them again anytime soon.
i'm sitting native-amercian style on the floor with my back against my bed and the notebook on my lap. i put a cd on the stereo (loney, dear - loney, noir) but i think the volume is too high. it's distracting me from organizing my thoughts but maybe that's an impossible task no matter what my ears are catching. a remote control would come in pretty handy right now. it's just like johnnie for him to lose it. i can't complain, though. wait...i just did. i can't complain any more than i did 7 seconds ago because at least there was a stereo waiting for me when i came crawling back to the place i spent the first 216 months of my life.
i think i have drew to thank for the fact that i'm notebooking (ewwww, i can't believe i just wrote that) for the first time in forever. he recommended over email today that i just go for it and stop thinking so much. thanks, drew. july 30th. that's the last time i saw him. a monday night. i haven't exchanged real-time voices with him since that monday which is weird. he's left me voicemails and we've emailed some but we used to interact much more frequently and face to face at that. it's completely my fault that things are different now. not only did i run away, but i suck on the phone. i fear the silences. i feel like there's something wrong with me when they occur and i freeze up or say something stupid like "chicken and beef" or laugh so obviously nervously.
my "r's" look so weird. whatever letter precedes them runs right into them. i wish i could run right into someone's arms and stay there until my cheeks were dry. i don't even have a particular person in mind. just about anyone would do. although, if it was someone who didn't know me, well, that would be pretty weird.
"open your mouth and speak whatever your heart's full of."
that lyric just flew right out of the speakers and stabbed me in the chest. i've only listened to this cd once so i wasn't familiar with it enough to brace for that. ouch, yo.
so i'm writing tonight. that's good, right? then why do i feel so hopeless? i guess the music's not helping. i could throw the new britney cd on but if frank hears it, i might be down a brother. messes fascinate me so i was curious and it was before the new car and subsequent wallet-tightening and i like beats and oh, shut up, i don't have to explain myself to you, mr. notebook. i also bought "the blueprint" by jay-z at the same time because jose said it was a must-own and he has a new album coming out so he was on my mind and well, ok fine....i felt stupid walking up to the register with only the britney cd especially on the day of its release. are you happy now, mr. notebook? yes, i am lame but we already knew that.
i gotta thank martha too for this return to notebooking (again? jesus christ, steve). and for so much more. it's amazing to think back to when i first started writing in notebooks (much better, yo) some 10+ years ago and how most of what i wrote then was related to her and how much she confused me. now she's my cheerleader, as she put it, trying to convince me to write my way out of this mess. she has so much going on in her life with keeping a family running yet she somehow finds the time to try to make sure i am ok. how i can ever thank her properly? she tells me it's just what friends do for each other. i don't know.
i'm losing steam which totally sucks because it felt good to do this again. wait - what am i talking about? 10 minutes ago i wrote that this exercise emphasized my hopelessness. my brain is a mess, obviously.
i am an asshole for contemplating posting this online. i guess i have this insatiable need for people to find me interesting or something.
i want to make people laugh again. that's quite possibly what i miss most about new york. through all my sadness and the fucked-upedness of the situation, i did make those people laugh...a lot. they better miss that.
just recently i started telling mom to take a poop when she says she's tired or has a headache or needs to write out some bills. i don't feel comfortable cursing in front of her so i use the pg13 version of a useless suggestion i've been offering since college. she thinks it's pretty funny and tells me i'm nuts which is kinda cool. mom's been great to me these past few months. she really has. it blew my mind that she found "it's always sunny in philadelphia" hilarious so we watched the entire season 1 + 2 dvd's together. i'm not sure many people can say they've done the same with their moms so i found that pretty special. it's just...in new york i felt like somebody but here i'm the same person i was from day one - steve, son of ruth and john of 29 sumner st, canton, ma 02021(4). that's kinda funny. in my entire life, i've never felt like anybody. why did i just write that ny made me feel like somebody, then? i'm a big fat liar, that's why. i wish i knew how to write what i mean. i guess i feel like i'm not the person here who i was out there, whoever the fuck that person was. much better.
yeah, so this is not a novel nor the start of one. maybe i could change the names but who am i kidding? that wouldn't improve the writing or make it any more interesting. i wish i could post this right now and if i had a wirelessly connected laptop, i could. but my car kept dying so i got a new one (idiot) which means no laptop and having to wait until the living room is indefinitely unoccupied before sneaking this onto the website i told mom no longer existed just last night when she asked "hey, do you still have that blog?"
