Why did you stop writing?
- Thread starter Tenth
- Start date
Shadowboxer
Always the one I cannot have. Maybe she's in a relationship. Maybe she loves someone else and cannot see he does not lover her. Maybe she lives thousands of miles away. Maybe she just doesn't see me "that" way. Regardless, those are the ones I want. I wish I did not.
1996. July 4th.
Morro.
First floor.
Some time after midnight, but before dawn.
Time flies. 9 years is a long time. Will I go for 10? I doubted I'd go 1. Or 2. Or 5. I've filled my life with distractions so I don't think about it. So I don't think about the last 9. Because if I stop to think I might break down. I might follow some of those dark thoughts that have tried to lead me before into those dark corridors with out end.
9 Years.
Just days piled upon one another.
days become weeks.
weeks become months.
months become years.
Memories of things become hazy. I remember images now. They used to be movies I could play in my head. Just images. Sometimes I have to REALY think to draw them up. Will I forget them entirely? Will they become like those vague childhood memories that suddenly bubble tot he surface? Unbidden and unexpected? With no context or discernable meaning.
Life going through the motions.
Some days that's all that's left.
An unfulfilled dream.
Will it always be like this? Are all these fucked up thought a millstone around my neck? I smile and play the part. I am the strong one after all. Right? Being alone in life should be easy if your strong. Right?
Memories like an old photograph. Faded with age. Water stained. Worn from folding. A treasured memory of someone your Great Grandfather knew.
-Tenth
Just another day.
Always the one I cannot have. Maybe she's in a relationship. Maybe she loves someone else and cannot see he does not lover her. Maybe she lives thousands of miles away. Maybe she just doesn't see me "that" way. Regardless, those are the ones I want. I wish I did not.
1996. July 4th.
Morro.
First floor.
Some time after midnight, but before dawn.
Time flies. 9 years is a long time. Will I go for 10? I doubted I'd go 1. Or 2. Or 5. I've filled my life with distractions so I don't think about it. So I don't think about the last 9. Because if I stop to think I might break down. I might follow some of those dark thoughts that have tried to lead me before into those dark corridors with out end.
9 Years.
Just days piled upon one another.
days become weeks.
weeks become months.
months become years.
Memories of things become hazy. I remember images now. They used to be movies I could play in my head. Just images. Sometimes I have to REALY think to draw them up. Will I forget them entirely? Will they become like those vague childhood memories that suddenly bubble tot he surface? Unbidden and unexpected? With no context or discernable meaning.
Life going through the motions.
Some days that's all that's left.
An unfulfilled dream.
Will it always be like this? Are all these fucked up thought a millstone around my neck? I smile and play the part. I am the strong one after all. Right? Being alone in life should be easy if your strong. Right?
Memories like an old photograph. Faded with age. Water stained. Worn from folding. A treasured memory of someone your Great Grandfather knew.
-Tenth
Just another day.
Black Sunshine
I did not, as I feared, sunburn my neck. I worked in the patch of over grown land the neighbors call "the Garden" for 4 hours yesterday. I started with a roughly 15'x15' section of ground covered with weeds and grass about 2 feet high. Now, it been completely cleared, a pathway put in, the earth tilled, and plants planted. All while I was working my neighbor would pop by to comment, at first that it was nice anyone was doing anything with the land, then that they could not believe how much I had done, and finally how nice it was. It's far from done, it need many more plants before it is finished, but I've done all I will this weekend. Next weekend I'll pick up some more plants and put them in. Today my back is sore. Every time I twist I wince. Grubbing the ground clear was a lot of work, and I do not know how to do anything half way.
The weather here is just fabulous today. I'm going to go see about buying a new pair of sandals this year. I've been keeping the same pair in use for the last three (four?) summers. Not much left to them now. It's a little like walking with news paper strapped to you feet.
-Tenth
The future is here.
I did not, as I feared, sunburn my neck. I worked in the patch of over grown land the neighbors call "the Garden" for 4 hours yesterday. I started with a roughly 15'x15' section of ground covered with weeds and grass about 2 feet high. Now, it been completely cleared, a pathway put in, the earth tilled, and plants planted. All while I was working my neighbor would pop by to comment, at first that it was nice anyone was doing anything with the land, then that they could not believe how much I had done, and finally how nice it was. It's far from done, it need many more plants before it is finished, but I've done all I will this weekend. Next weekend I'll pick up some more plants and put them in. Today my back is sore. Every time I twist I wince. Grubbing the ground clear was a lot of work, and I do not know how to do anything half way.
The weather here is just fabulous today. I'm going to go see about buying a new pair of sandals this year. I've been keeping the same pair in use for the last three (four?) summers. Not much left to them now. It's a little like walking with news paper strapped to you feet.
-Tenth
The future is here.
Riot Girl
I had a strange dream last night. In it I was lying in bed, and someone was tapping my window from outside. I woke up (in the dream) and thought, "I live on the second floor. How the hell are they tapping my window?" I then realized they were throwing pebbles. So I got out of bed. All sleepy. I stumbled on the pile of unfolded laundry below my window and pulled back the blinds. I could see a dark from down in my garden. The form motions to me. I open my window and hang out (The screen that exist there when I am awake was not there). The form moves out of the shadow of the trees. It's a woman I know. A friend. I'm amazed she is here. She does not live local. "Hey Tenth!" she says.
"Hi..." I say. Still amazed and confused. "How did you get here?"
"I wanted to see your garden." She says, moving down the small path like it was a red carpet. "I followed your internet connection."
"Oh." I reply, "Of course. Do you like it?"
"I love it!" She says, stepping from the path that exist, into part of the garden path I've not made yet.
"Good." I say, "I'm glad."
"Tenth," She says, looking up at me from the space below my window, "I have something important I need to ask you, but first, did I wake you up?"
"Yeah." I say, "I'm fucking tired. I was up past my usual bed time talking to Emma. I have to work in the morning."
"Ok then," she says, "Go back to sleep. It can wait. I want you to have time to talk."
"OK." I close the window, shut the blinds, crawl back into bed, and curl up with my flannel sheets.
The dream goes cinematic for a moment. The camera is outside. The shot is framed low, looking up toward my window. She is on the left side of the screen. She is visible from the knee up. Perspective makes it look like her head is level with my window. She curses gently under her breath, and then says, "Good God! He can be dense." She crouches down. Cut to a shot of her hand picking up a few of the gravel pebbles in the pathway. Cut to a shot of her from the front, waist up, the Redwood trees next to my building behind her. In her up raise open palm sits the gravel. She very deliberately picks up two of the pebbles. She holds them in front of her face. Cut to a profile shot. her face is in profile on the left. Her arm is stretched across the bottom of the screen. On the right she holds two of the pebbles. All of this clearly visible because the nearly full hangs behind her in the shot. A mischievous smile plays across her lips. The shot hangs motionless except for a slight tousling of her hair by a soft breeze, for several seconds. Cut to a shot directly above her, close enough that she takes up the majority of the screen. In an explosion of motion she pulls her arm back and flings the pebbles. the camera whip pans as everything goes slow motion. It tracks the arc of the pebbles as they climb toward the window, following them in their trajectory. The whip pan swings from her to my window with my garden and the wall of my building becoming blurred. They impact my window in quick succession with a "tip-tap!" that is loud, sudden and...
... I jerk awake. For real this time. I wonder why I didn't tell her to come around the building and come on up if she's traveled all that way in my confused state. "No, it was a dream." I think. But I lay still in bed, knowing that if somehow it wasn't she'll throw another pebble or two. I lay silent and rigid for perhaps a minute before allowing myself to relax and go back to sleep. In my mind I can still see her standing down there. On the path, but she never was.
-Tenth
I wonder what she had to say.
I had a strange dream last night. In it I was lying in bed, and someone was tapping my window from outside. I woke up (in the dream) and thought, "I live on the second floor. How the hell are they tapping my window?" I then realized they were throwing pebbles. So I got out of bed. All sleepy. I stumbled on the pile of unfolded laundry below my window and pulled back the blinds. I could see a dark from down in my garden. The form motions to me. I open my window and hang out (The screen that exist there when I am awake was not there). The form moves out of the shadow of the trees. It's a woman I know. A friend. I'm amazed she is here. She does not live local. "Hey Tenth!" she says.
"Hi..." I say. Still amazed and confused. "How did you get here?"
"I wanted to see your garden." She says, moving down the small path like it was a red carpet. "I followed your internet connection."
"Oh." I reply, "Of course. Do you like it?"
"I love it!" She says, stepping from the path that exist, into part of the garden path I've not made yet.
"Good." I say, "I'm glad."
"Tenth," She says, looking up at me from the space below my window, "I have something important I need to ask you, but first, did I wake you up?"
"Yeah." I say, "I'm fucking tired. I was up past my usual bed time talking to Emma. I have to work in the morning."
"Ok then," she says, "Go back to sleep. It can wait. I want you to have time to talk."
"OK." I close the window, shut the blinds, crawl back into bed, and curl up with my flannel sheets.
The dream goes cinematic for a moment. The camera is outside. The shot is framed low, looking up toward my window. She is on the left side of the screen. She is visible from the knee up. Perspective makes it look like her head is level with my window. She curses gently under her breath, and then says, "Good God! He can be dense." She crouches down. Cut to a shot of her hand picking up a few of the gravel pebbles in the pathway. Cut to a shot of her from the front, waist up, the Redwood trees next to my building behind her. In her up raise open palm sits the gravel. She very deliberately picks up two of the pebbles. She holds them in front of her face. Cut to a profile shot. her face is in profile on the left. Her arm is stretched across the bottom of the screen. On the right she holds two of the pebbles. All of this clearly visible because the nearly full hangs behind her in the shot. A mischievous smile plays across her lips. The shot hangs motionless except for a slight tousling of her hair by a soft breeze, for several seconds. Cut to a shot directly above her, close enough that she takes up the majority of the screen. In an explosion of motion she pulls her arm back and flings the pebbles. the camera whip pans as everything goes slow motion. It tracks the arc of the pebbles as they climb toward the window, following them in their trajectory. The whip pan swings from her to my window with my garden and the wall of my building becoming blurred. They impact my window in quick succession with a "tip-tap!" that is loud, sudden and...
... I jerk awake. For real this time. I wonder why I didn't tell her to come around the building and come on up if she's traveled all that way in my confused state. "No, it was a dream." I think. But I lay still in bed, knowing that if somehow it wasn't she'll throw another pebble or two. I lay silent and rigid for perhaps a minute before allowing myself to relax and go back to sleep. In my mind I can still see her standing down there. On the path, but she never was.
-Tenth
I wonder what she had to say.
Live and Let Die
I'm not a happy ball of fun (Happy Fun Ball my suddenly, and without warning, accelerate to dangerous speeds) today. I'm tired. I spent the whole day inside. I had no reason to go out to a site today, so I just worked on the computer. I'm not cut out for cube life. I like being outside. More and more I find myself wanting to be outside. Today the walls felt like they tilted in. I'm not really sure how I feel right now. I wish I had the words to explain it.
-Tenth
Perhaps.. No. Apparently not.
I'm not a happy ball of fun (Happy Fun Ball my suddenly, and without warning, accelerate to dangerous speeds) today. I'm tired. I spent the whole day inside. I had no reason to go out to a site today, so I just worked on the computer. I'm not cut out for cube life. I like being outside. More and more I find myself wanting to be outside. Today the walls felt like they tilted in. I'm not really sure how I feel right now. I wish I had the words to explain it.
-Tenth
Perhaps.. No. Apparently not.
Shine On You Crazy Diamond
I don't feel positive right now. I can feel myself teetering. Form and Void. That blackness is out there, and it wants inside my head.
Words are hard in coming tonight. I'm having difficulty putting it together.
MY last night in San Luis Obispo was very, very sad. MY friends had had a party for me a few days before. I'd eaten a wonderful steak, I gotten drunk on shots of scotch and more then a few beers. I'd walked, no staggered, to my shitty little apartment and passed out. But I still had a few days in town. As far as they were concerned I was pretty much gone. I'd needed help loading my stuff into the trailer I had rented. One person showed up. Just one. But my last night I drove out to the ocean. I parked on the bluffs and ate a sandwich, drank a mountain dew, eaten some chips, and watched the sun sink below the horizon until it wasn't even a glow. The next morning I packed a few last things, and drove north. No one came to see me off.
It's funny. I never thought I would be over Belle, but here I am. She's not a factor in my life. Did I get over it, or just give up? I don't know anymore. I do know it doesn't hurt any more. I know that both of us are deeply flawed people, and I am sure if she had wanted it to work I would have fucked it up. Not because I did not lover her of have good intentions, but I had invested to much of myself in her, in that way I think we only do once. A first love is a land mark event for a reason. Whether I was hers or not is a subject open for debate. I had my reasons, for a long time, to believe that all women were evil, cruel, and manipulative.
Sidebar:
Red really let me down this week. At this point, I am sure nothing will ever happen with her, which is sad, but is alright, I do truly believe we can be friends. None the less she let me down. I know she's a flake. At this point I should not trust her at all. But I do. I want to. I want her to validate that trust in her. We had discussed going to a concert in a few months. We were both excited. We decided that she would buy the tickets, and let me know how much I owed her. Time went by. I would ask her, and she would reply that she had forgotten, or had been busy, or any other of a myriad of excuses, but that she would take care of it that night. Monday, when I ask, she tells me she's having a "Cash Flow Problem" and that I should pick up the tickets and she'd pay me back at some point before the show. No problem. I trust her to do that even though she is a flake. I get online. I search. The show is sold out. The cheapest seat, the ones that have things like "Partialy obstructed view" in the description are going for 4-5 time the face value. Forget about anything decent. Fuck. So now, unless I run into a string of phenomenal luck, I will likely not go to a concert that I was hyped about, and really excited at the prospect of seeing. I've babbled enough. Just know that underneath this calm, serious looking exterior, I'm a fucking mess.
There is a song in my .mp3 collection that pulls up to many memories. Every time it plays, the tears well up, and I want to delete it. Every time I cannot.
Oh... and that to.
-Tenth
True wisdom only comes from pain. So much wisdom is, in it's self, unwise.
I don't feel positive right now. I can feel myself teetering. Form and Void. That blackness is out there, and it wants inside my head.
Words are hard in coming tonight. I'm having difficulty putting it together.
MY last night in San Luis Obispo was very, very sad. MY friends had had a party for me a few days before. I'd eaten a wonderful steak, I gotten drunk on shots of scotch and more then a few beers. I'd walked, no staggered, to my shitty little apartment and passed out. But I still had a few days in town. As far as they were concerned I was pretty much gone. I'd needed help loading my stuff into the trailer I had rented. One person showed up. Just one. But my last night I drove out to the ocean. I parked on the bluffs and ate a sandwich, drank a mountain dew, eaten some chips, and watched the sun sink below the horizon until it wasn't even a glow. The next morning I packed a few last things, and drove north. No one came to see me off.
It's funny. I never thought I would be over Belle, but here I am. She's not a factor in my life. Did I get over it, or just give up? I don't know anymore. I do know it doesn't hurt any more. I know that both of us are deeply flawed people, and I am sure if she had wanted it to work I would have fucked it up. Not because I did not lover her of have good intentions, but I had invested to much of myself in her, in that way I think we only do once. A first love is a land mark event for a reason. Whether I was hers or not is a subject open for debate. I had my reasons, for a long time, to believe that all women were evil, cruel, and manipulative.
Sidebar:
Red really let me down this week. At this point, I am sure nothing will ever happen with her, which is sad, but is alright, I do truly believe we can be friends. None the less she let me down. I know she's a flake. At this point I should not trust her at all. But I do. I want to. I want her to validate that trust in her. We had discussed going to a concert in a few months. We were both excited. We decided that she would buy the tickets, and let me know how much I owed her. Time went by. I would ask her, and she would reply that she had forgotten, or had been busy, or any other of a myriad of excuses, but that she would take care of it that night. Monday, when I ask, she tells me she's having a "Cash Flow Problem" and that I should pick up the tickets and she'd pay me back at some point before the show. No problem. I trust her to do that even though she is a flake. I get online. I search. The show is sold out. The cheapest seat, the ones that have things like "Partialy obstructed view" in the description are going for 4-5 time the face value. Forget about anything decent. Fuck. So now, unless I run into a string of phenomenal luck, I will likely not go to a concert that I was hyped about, and really excited at the prospect of seeing. I've babbled enough. Just know that underneath this calm, serious looking exterior, I'm a fucking mess.
There is a song in my .mp3 collection that pulls up to many memories. Every time it plays, the tears well up, and I want to delete it. Every time I cannot.
Oh... and that to.
-Tenth
True wisdom only comes from pain. So much wisdom is, in it's self, unwise.
Black thoughts.
Every one needs a friend like me. I’m a great guy. Ask anyone. I get tired of being told, "You’re a great guy Tenth, I don’t know why you single." Of course the subtext is Well, I don’t want you, but you seem nice enough. Or the ever popular, "You’ll meet someone soon." Six years of that and if feels like a lie before it’s even said. I must sound bitter and hateful here in this journal. Understand most of what I say here are thing that I do not say in my life. My ongoing celibacy and loneliness, you’d never know it bothers me as much as it does. I close off those parts of myself. It does no good to discuss it.
I am frustrated that I am able to form deep friendships with women. It comes naturally to me. It always has. Many of my early childhood friends were women, and in that awkward phase I was never unable to talk to girls. I was just able to talk to them when I liked them "That way." I still have a little trouble with that. But to meet them, become friends, always easy. Why is anything else so hard.
I feel myself growing bitter. It’s not good. I’m so tired of this point in life. At this point I am afraid of a relationship on a certain level. It’s been so long, and my past relationships were so unhealthy. I feel like I forgotten anything I once new. I feel like I’m starting over again. 30 years old is a hard time to be trying to learn about women and dating. I’m tired of bitching about it here. I think I’ll stop talking about it even here for a while. I if dwell on it to long, I’ll loose everything else I’ve got
-Tenth
It is all I am so often.
Every one needs a friend like me. I’m a great guy. Ask anyone. I get tired of being told, "You’re a great guy Tenth, I don’t know why you single." Of course the subtext is Well, I don’t want you, but you seem nice enough. Or the ever popular, "You’ll meet someone soon." Six years of that and if feels like a lie before it’s even said. I must sound bitter and hateful here in this journal. Understand most of what I say here are thing that I do not say in my life. My ongoing celibacy and loneliness, you’d never know it bothers me as much as it does. I close off those parts of myself. It does no good to discuss it.
I am frustrated that I am able to form deep friendships with women. It comes naturally to me. It always has. Many of my early childhood friends were women, and in that awkward phase I was never unable to talk to girls. I was just able to talk to them when I liked them "That way." I still have a little trouble with that. But to meet them, become friends, always easy. Why is anything else so hard.
I feel myself growing bitter. It’s not good. I’m so tired of this point in life. At this point I am afraid of a relationship on a certain level. It’s been so long, and my past relationships were so unhealthy. I feel like I forgotten anything I once new. I feel like I’m starting over again. 30 years old is a hard time to be trying to learn about women and dating. I’m tired of bitching about it here. I think I’ll stop talking about it even here for a while. I if dwell on it to long, I’ll loose everything else I’ve got
-Tenth
It is all I am so often.
Flashlight
So this afternoon I had a wonderful experience. I was sitting outside on my deck reading, when I hear a buzzing noise. Not like a bee or was, lower. I look up, and about 4 feet way was a humming bird regarding me. You see I was sitting within arms reach of my humming bird feeder. A moment later it took off. I returned to reading. I heard the noise again after a few minutes. This time I slowly pivoted my head in an attempt to not startle the humming bird away. It worked. I was able to watch it feed for several minutes. It's wings beating their invisible pace. When it had had enough it flew up to the top of the feeder and perched for a time, just sort of hanging out. After a short time it took off suddenly, and so fast it was little more than a blur.
-Tenth
In the natural world... sort of.
So this afternoon I had a wonderful experience. I was sitting outside on my deck reading, when I hear a buzzing noise. Not like a bee or was, lower. I look up, and about 4 feet way was a humming bird regarding me. You see I was sitting within arms reach of my humming bird feeder. A moment later it took off. I returned to reading. I heard the noise again after a few minutes. This time I slowly pivoted my head in an attempt to not startle the humming bird away. It worked. I was able to watch it feed for several minutes. It's wings beating their invisible pace. When it had had enough it flew up to the top of the feeder and perched for a time, just sort of hanging out. After a short time it took off suddenly, and so fast it was little more than a blur.
-Tenth
In the natural world... sort of.
It Was Supposed To Be So Easy
Tonight I need to actually get to bed on time for once. I'm tired. It's been warmer than I like and that has made it difficult to sleep. On top of that, after I cook dinner, I need to rebuild a bike wheel, and do laundry.
I ordered a new set of handle bars for my bike. Ones that are a little higher. My back has been bothering me when I ride a little and I catch myself riding with just half my fingers on the bars. Not the greatest Idea in rough terrain. If they show up this week I'll try to put them on before the weekend. A nice long weekend means I can get in two really good rides, and have time to recover after each
I'll be able to work on my garden. Some of my flowers have dies. I think the stress of planting and the sudden heat wave did them in. I'll planed something a little hardier this weekend. I think I'll pick up some mulch/ground cover so the soil temperature doesn't get as high.
-Tenth
I guess that's it...
Addendum: in the prossess of working on the wheel, a brake rotor mount stripped out... This is something I cannot fix, and it looks like I need to buy a new wheel.
Tonight I need to actually get to bed on time for once. I'm tired. It's been warmer than I like and that has made it difficult to sleep. On top of that, after I cook dinner, I need to rebuild a bike wheel, and do laundry.
I ordered a new set of handle bars for my bike. Ones that are a little higher. My back has been bothering me when I ride a little and I catch myself riding with just half my fingers on the bars. Not the greatest Idea in rough terrain. If they show up this week I'll try to put them on before the weekend. A nice long weekend means I can get in two really good rides, and have time to recover after each
I'll be able to work on my garden. Some of my flowers have dies. I think the stress of planting and the sudden heat wave did them in. I'll planed something a little hardier this weekend. I think I'll pick up some mulch/ground cover so the soil temperature doesn't get as high.
-Tenth
I guess that's it...
Addendum: in the prossess of working on the wheel, a brake rotor mount stripped out... This is something I cannot fix, and it looks like I need to buy a new wheel.
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insomnia
I cannot sleep. I tried. It didn't work. To much stuff in my head. Not going to write it down. If you read this journal then you've read it befor. I know that tomarrow I'm going to be grumpy and tired in the morning. I'm comitted to seeing a movie with Red after work... RIGHT after work. I've things that need to be done. But this is the last week the movie is playing, and Thursday is just right out. I guess movie buddies is all we are. Well, friends, but sometime I feel like even that is all on her terms. Sitting here I can stare into space, blank. No thought for several minutes. Compaired to the legion of thoughts that invade the moment my head hit the pillow it's bliss. I have to work tomarrow. I cannot call in. I've made comitments to people that can't be postponed, so no matter how little sleep I have to go in. To much stuff in this head of mine and not enough room. I'm to tired to spell check this post even. And yet... no sleep.
-Tenth
Sometimes it is like a slow motion punch to the face. You see it coming, you know it's going to hurt, but you know it's already to late to get out of the way.
I cannot sleep. I tried. It didn't work. To much stuff in my head. Not going to write it down. If you read this journal then you've read it befor. I know that tomarrow I'm going to be grumpy and tired in the morning. I'm comitted to seeing a movie with Red after work... RIGHT after work. I've things that need to be done. But this is the last week the movie is playing, and Thursday is just right out. I guess movie buddies is all we are. Well, friends, but sometime I feel like even that is all on her terms. Sitting here I can stare into space, blank. No thought for several minutes. Compaired to the legion of thoughts that invade the moment my head hit the pillow it's bliss. I have to work tomarrow. I cannot call in. I've made comitments to people that can't be postponed, so no matter how little sleep I have to go in. To much stuff in this head of mine and not enough room. I'm to tired to spell check this post even. And yet... no sleep.
-Tenth
Sometimes it is like a slow motion punch to the face. You see it coming, you know it's going to hurt, but you know it's already to late to get out of the way.
Boom!
Today I have grand plans. Of course I did yesterday to. I failed. I intend to work on my garden for a few hours. I intend to finish swapping out the handle bars on my mountain bike. I intend to head over to San Jose to go to a party with Welder and Smile. I intend to swing by Ego's on the way, it's been way to long since I've hung with him and Spaz. I intend to try to take a picture of a humming bird at the feeder on my deck.
I did buy a new road bike today. Or more accurately I ordered it. It should show up in a week or so. I intend to start riding into work at least once a week. More if possible. Yes it will take longer, yes it will be inconvenient, but if I want to close the gap between the shape I'm in and the shape I want to be in I need to start working on in. Besides it will save money in wear and tear on my truck as well gas. never mind the money I spent on the bike. I make it up in gas money and mental well being.
-Tenth
I dreamt of corsets.
Today I have grand plans. Of course I did yesterday to. I failed. I intend to work on my garden for a few hours. I intend to finish swapping out the handle bars on my mountain bike. I intend to head over to San Jose to go to a party with Welder and Smile. I intend to swing by Ego's on the way, it's been way to long since I've hung with him and Spaz. I intend to try to take a picture of a humming bird at the feeder on my deck.
I did buy a new road bike today. Or more accurately I ordered it. It should show up in a week or so. I intend to start riding into work at least once a week. More if possible. Yes it will take longer, yes it will be inconvenient, but if I want to close the gap between the shape I'm in and the shape I want to be in I need to start working on in. Besides it will save money in wear and tear on my truck as well gas. never mind the money I spent on the bike. I make it up in gas money and mental well being.
-Tenth
I dreamt of corsets.
Life
I was standing in line at Trader Joe's (Sort of a hip supermarket. Gourmet and natural foods at regular prices if your unfamiliar) when he walked in. He was older. Perhaps in his 50's if his weathered face, and the gray in his temples was any indication. He wore black shorts and a blue wind breaker. A black satchel back hung under one arm. His first words were, "Where's my shopping cart?!?!" If not for the hint of anger in his voice I might have though he was attempting to be funny. No one responded so he asked the world again, "Where is my fucking shopping cart?!?!?!?!" The checker and woman ahead of me turned towards the man. The man in the blue windbreaker walked up right next to me and pointed an accusatory finger at the checker, "What did you do with my shopping car?"
The checker stopped scanning items. "We took it and put the stuff back on the shelves." he said in a nice calm even tone. A tone you might use with your sweet old grandmother whom you love.
"Put it back?" the man in blue cried. His voice cracking on the edge of self control.
"Yes." The checker said in that same calm voice, "There were frozen foods in there and we were worried they would go bad."
The man in the blue windbreaker clenches his hands into fist and waves them up and down while stomping his Nikes. It's an image that reminds me of a petulant toddler so strongly, I have to look away lest I snicker out loud. "The man in blue stammers, "But... I said... I said I'd be right back! Now I have to go through and do the whole thing over again!!!"
A sudden image lodges it's self unexpectedly in my head. I see him, the man in the blue windbreaker, on his hands and knees. He is inspecting the label on ever jar of Trader Joe's corn chowder, searching for the one with the farthest out expiration date. He his harnessed to a car, much like a horse pulling a stage coach like in the old Wells Fargo commercials. It is piled high with boxes, cans, and jars bearing the Trader Joe's logo. Be hind that car is another. And be hind it another. and behind THAT cart is a train of carts stretching off tot he horizon. All of this is taking place under the beating sun of the Mojave desert.
The man in the blue windbreaker stomps off into the store. The calm checker beguines to scan my stuff with cool efficiency. "What the hell was that about?" I ask in a friendly tone. One learned from my own years of retail work.
"He cam in here about 2 hours ago, pilled up a cart completely full, and forgot his money," the clerk says, never breaking his scanning pace. He leans forward and in a conspiratorial tone says, "After about 45 minutes we unpacked his cart. It was almost all frozen goods. They would have spoiled if we left them in the cart."
I nod as I swipe my debit card. "What nutcase." the clerk chuckles and beguines packing my groceries into a bag.
"I don't know how you can get away with this!" Loud and proud, the man in the blue wind breaker has returned. He's in the next checkout lane. The express lane. He has a few items in his hands. "I SAID I'd be back. I am through. Through with this shitty store."
The clerk glances over his shoulder and groans. When he turns back toward me I smile and give a "What are ya gonna do?" shrug.
The man in the blue windbreaker is just hitting his stride. "I can't believe you people did that! I have to catch a bus. Now I'm going to miss it and it's all your fault!" He's gesticulating wildly while the clerk in his row is trying to scan things as quickly as possible. "I can't even eat most of what you sell here. Possessed sugar is in everything. Poison! You might as well sell Arsenic!"
I collect my groceries and begin to head toward the door.
"Arsenic!" the man in the blue wind breaker says again. "Refined sugar will kill you! Your Death merchants!" I hear him ranting as I leave the store.
I wonder if he left on his own or if he had to be asked to leave.
-Tenth
I love this town.
I was standing in line at Trader Joe's (Sort of a hip supermarket. Gourmet and natural foods at regular prices if your unfamiliar) when he walked in. He was older. Perhaps in his 50's if his weathered face, and the gray in his temples was any indication. He wore black shorts and a blue wind breaker. A black satchel back hung under one arm. His first words were, "Where's my shopping cart?!?!" If not for the hint of anger in his voice I might have though he was attempting to be funny. No one responded so he asked the world again, "Where is my fucking shopping cart?!?!?!?!" The checker and woman ahead of me turned towards the man. The man in the blue windbreaker walked up right next to me and pointed an accusatory finger at the checker, "What did you do with my shopping car?"
The checker stopped scanning items. "We took it and put the stuff back on the shelves." he said in a nice calm even tone. A tone you might use with your sweet old grandmother whom you love.
"Put it back?" the man in blue cried. His voice cracking on the edge of self control.
"Yes." The checker said in that same calm voice, "There were frozen foods in there and we were worried they would go bad."
The man in the blue windbreaker clenches his hands into fist and waves them up and down while stomping his Nikes. It's an image that reminds me of a petulant toddler so strongly, I have to look away lest I snicker out loud. "The man in blue stammers, "But... I said... I said I'd be right back! Now I have to go through and do the whole thing over again!!!"
A sudden image lodges it's self unexpectedly in my head. I see him, the man in the blue windbreaker, on his hands and knees. He is inspecting the label on ever jar of Trader Joe's corn chowder, searching for the one with the farthest out expiration date. He his harnessed to a car, much like a horse pulling a stage coach like in the old Wells Fargo commercials. It is piled high with boxes, cans, and jars bearing the Trader Joe's logo. Be hind that car is another. And be hind it another. and behind THAT cart is a train of carts stretching off tot he horizon. All of this is taking place under the beating sun of the Mojave desert.
The man in the blue windbreaker stomps off into the store. The calm checker beguines to scan my stuff with cool efficiency. "What the hell was that about?" I ask in a friendly tone. One learned from my own years of retail work.
"He cam in here about 2 hours ago, pilled up a cart completely full, and forgot his money," the clerk says, never breaking his scanning pace. He leans forward and in a conspiratorial tone says, "After about 45 minutes we unpacked his cart. It was almost all frozen goods. They would have spoiled if we left them in the cart."
I nod as I swipe my debit card. "What nutcase." the clerk chuckles and beguines packing my groceries into a bag.
"I don't know how you can get away with this!" Loud and proud, the man in the blue wind breaker has returned. He's in the next checkout lane. The express lane. He has a few items in his hands. "I SAID I'd be back. I am through. Through with this shitty store."
The clerk glances over his shoulder and groans. When he turns back toward me I smile and give a "What are ya gonna do?" shrug.
The man in the blue windbreaker is just hitting his stride. "I can't believe you people did that! I have to catch a bus. Now I'm going to miss it and it's all your fault!" He's gesticulating wildly while the clerk in his row is trying to scan things as quickly as possible. "I can't even eat most of what you sell here. Possessed sugar is in everything. Poison! You might as well sell Arsenic!"
I collect my groceries and begin to head toward the door.
"Arsenic!" the man in the blue wind breaker says again. "Refined sugar will kill you! Your Death merchants!" I hear him ranting as I leave the store.
I wonder if he left on his own or if he had to be asked to leave.
-Tenth
I love this town.
Chaos Theory
Last night I was hanging out with the guys. It was nice, because I haven't gotten out and been particularly social in a while. We went to a pizza place I had not been to befor. Walking in the door I instantly thought that it had to be a good place because it was friggin' packed. I was instantly transported to my childhood. I grew up in a smallish town. There was exactly one pizza place in town. Nearly every Friday night my family would go. My parents would order a large pepperoni pizza. They would get sodas for us (And this place had free refill and the machine was accessible to the public, a concept unheard of in the late 70's). My dad would get a pitcher of beer. My mom would usually drink one beer, leaving the rest of the pitcher to my dad and whom ever among their friends would show up. For you see it was the grand social outing for the week. Friends and co workers of theirs would show up with their kids until several of the looooong (Perhaps magnified in my memories by the fact I was so small...) tables were filled with a boisterous crowd. My mom would empty out her purse of the change that had accumulated over the weeks and give it to my sister and I so that we could play pinball or video games like "Space Invaders," "Moon Patrol," or a little later "Star wars" (Vector line graphics baby!). After the quarters were gone all the kids would mob up and, amped out on sugar form the sodas and the joy of being someplace different, play games who's rules were usually made up on the spot, but usually involved lots of running and yelling until one of the adults told us to keep it down. I can still remember the smell of cigarette smoke mingles with all pizza toppings in the world. So this place we went to was a little like that. But with out the Cigarette smoke (You can't smoke in restaurants in California anymore if you did not know). It was loud in there. So loud I was unable to carry on any sort of communication with my friends at the other end of the table. Sitting there eating out own pizza, sharing out own pitchers of beer while someone else’s mob of children ran around yelling was a grand time. I was in the corner so I could not get up without making at least two people move, which was nice because I could send people off to refill the soda I had (Beer is wonderful, but I knew I would be driving later so I limited myself to one). It was at this point my phone rings. I know from the ring tone that it is someone I'd like to speak to (I have three ring tones for people I use on my phone. Standard. Which is just that. I might answer. A tone for people I don't particularly want to speak to, so I know to just let it go to voice mail, and then I'll check it to see what they wanted, and call back if it was something important, and finally a tone for people I actually would like to talk to so I pretty much always answer when I here that one). I look at the face plate, see the name and answer. I immediately feel a little bad. I can only hear every third or fourth word because it is so loud in this place. I look up about to stand up and walk outside, and EVERYONE at my table is all staring at me. They've dropped what ever conversation they were having and are listening to mine. I know now the only way I'll be able to get out of my corner is to go commando and run across the top of the table. We all know that if I tried that all I would end up doing is flipping the table, looking (and feeling) remarkably stupid, and showing everyone there that I know how to bleed. Not to mention making the person I'm talking wonder what the hell just happened. I try to chat a little, but I was just having a hard time hear. I tell her this and I THINK she said she'd call today (Once again I could hear very little). I hang up and the conversation returns. MY friends are weird. We head back to the house and end up drinking beers (Again, none for me because I have to drive), talking, and playing old fighting video games (Street Fighter II if you must know) until it was late and I had to drive back. The drive back was a little surreal for some reason. I was tired, but not to the point where it was going to become an issue. Traffic was virtually nonexistent, which was strange for where I was. I had the highway all to myself. When I was almost home I was passed by three police cruisers. Lights up, sirens blaring, going better than 100 MPH I am sure. I saw them pull off the free way ahead of me. Past the off ramp, along the frontage road there were two more police cruisers. I could see them cuffing one guy. There was someone else lying in the street. Another officer had his gun out and pointed toward the form in the street. Two more police cruisers were coming from the other direction. I wondered if the man (?) in the street was injured. Moments later an ambulance came from the other direction on the highway. I don't know what happened, but with seven police cars, and an ambulance it must have been dramatic. I got home, collapsed on the bed, slept, and dreamt.
-Tenth
Sexy dreams
Last night I was hanging out with the guys. It was nice, because I haven't gotten out and been particularly social in a while. We went to a pizza place I had not been to befor. Walking in the door I instantly thought that it had to be a good place because it was friggin' packed. I was instantly transported to my childhood. I grew up in a smallish town. There was exactly one pizza place in town. Nearly every Friday night my family would go. My parents would order a large pepperoni pizza. They would get sodas for us (And this place had free refill and the machine was accessible to the public, a concept unheard of in the late 70's). My dad would get a pitcher of beer. My mom would usually drink one beer, leaving the rest of the pitcher to my dad and whom ever among their friends would show up. For you see it was the grand social outing for the week. Friends and co workers of theirs would show up with their kids until several of the looooong (Perhaps magnified in my memories by the fact I was so small...) tables were filled with a boisterous crowd. My mom would empty out her purse of the change that had accumulated over the weeks and give it to my sister and I so that we could play pinball or video games like "Space Invaders," "Moon Patrol," or a little later "Star wars" (Vector line graphics baby!). After the quarters were gone all the kids would mob up and, amped out on sugar form the sodas and the joy of being someplace different, play games who's rules were usually made up on the spot, but usually involved lots of running and yelling until one of the adults told us to keep it down. I can still remember the smell of cigarette smoke mingles with all pizza toppings in the world. So this place we went to was a little like that. But with out the Cigarette smoke (You can't smoke in restaurants in California anymore if you did not know). It was loud in there. So loud I was unable to carry on any sort of communication with my friends at the other end of the table. Sitting there eating out own pizza, sharing out own pitchers of beer while someone else’s mob of children ran around yelling was a grand time. I was in the corner so I could not get up without making at least two people move, which was nice because I could send people off to refill the soda I had (Beer is wonderful, but I knew I would be driving later so I limited myself to one). It was at this point my phone rings. I know from the ring tone that it is someone I'd like to speak to (I have three ring tones for people I use on my phone. Standard. Which is just that. I might answer. A tone for people I don't particularly want to speak to, so I know to just let it go to voice mail, and then I'll check it to see what they wanted, and call back if it was something important, and finally a tone for people I actually would like to talk to so I pretty much always answer when I here that one). I look at the face plate, see the name and answer. I immediately feel a little bad. I can only hear every third or fourth word because it is so loud in this place. I look up about to stand up and walk outside, and EVERYONE at my table is all staring at me. They've dropped what ever conversation they were having and are listening to mine. I know now the only way I'll be able to get out of my corner is to go commando and run across the top of the table. We all know that if I tried that all I would end up doing is flipping the table, looking (and feeling) remarkably stupid, and showing everyone there that I know how to bleed. Not to mention making the person I'm talking wonder what the hell just happened. I try to chat a little, but I was just having a hard time hear. I tell her this and I THINK she said she'd call today (Once again I could hear very little). I hang up and the conversation returns. MY friends are weird. We head back to the house and end up drinking beers (Again, none for me because I have to drive), talking, and playing old fighting video games (Street Fighter II if you must know) until it was late and I had to drive back. The drive back was a little surreal for some reason. I was tired, but not to the point where it was going to become an issue. Traffic was virtually nonexistent, which was strange for where I was. I had the highway all to myself. When I was almost home I was passed by three police cruisers. Lights up, sirens blaring, going better than 100 MPH I am sure. I saw them pull off the free way ahead of me. Past the off ramp, along the frontage road there were two more police cruisers. I could see them cuffing one guy. There was someone else lying in the street. Another officer had his gun out and pointed toward the form in the street. Two more police cruisers were coming from the other direction. I wondered if the man (?) in the street was injured. Moments later an ambulance came from the other direction on the highway. I don't know what happened, but with seven police cars, and an ambulance it must have been dramatic. I got home, collapsed on the bed, slept, and dreamt.
-Tenth
Sexy dreams
Hypnotize
I was out at a job site with ABG today. He spent much of the time on the road there either talking to, or complaining about his girlfriend. I preferred it when he was talking to her on his cell. I could just drive. We get to the site and it turns out the contractor is a woman ABG knows. Immediately he launches into what she has done now, how he never should have stayed together this long, etc. I interject a comment that he should be hard hearted, like me. The woman immediately starts laughing and say, "Nope, that's not true. I'll bet your a big ol' teddy bear!"
good lord is it tattooed on my forehead?
-Tenth
Seems likely.
I was out at a job site with ABG today. He spent much of the time on the road there either talking to, or complaining about his girlfriend. I preferred it when he was talking to her on his cell. I could just drive. We get to the site and it turns out the contractor is a woman ABG knows. Immediately he launches into what she has done now, how he never should have stayed together this long, etc. I interject a comment that he should be hard hearted, like me. The woman immediately starts laughing and say, "Nope, that's not true. I'll bet your a big ol' teddy bear!"
good lord is it tattooed on my forehead?
-Tenth
Seems likely.
Some Postman
Sis and Bird are in the area. It's been really nice to see them. We went downtown for a while one night. Sis and Bird were commenting how nice it was to be back in Santa Cruz, and how where they moved to feels really bland and "white washed" compared to here. She was telling me that during her job interview she was given a ride from the airport by someone who is now a coworker. While at a stop sigh someone with the classic punk rock look, black leather jacket, plaid pants, black boots, and a bright green mohawk, passed in front of the car. The coworker drew in a quick breath and comented that was something you didn't see everyday. Sis laughed and said, "Actually, I do." In this town, I don't even notice the different people anymore. They just are. The diversity of the people here is perhaps the thing I love the most. I knew Sis and Bird had been go to long because they were noticing and commenting on people that didn't even register as different. At one point one of out more notable pieces of local color saw me, recognized me, and in a friendly tone asked me how it was going. I responded and he nodded his head to me. When we got past my sister said, "Holy cow Tenth! It looked like he actually knew who you were!" I laughed and told her that because I saw so many people walk past the man and pretend he wasn't there I made it a point to say “hi” to him every time I saw him, so I guess he remembered me.
Later that night a friend of mine called to taunt me about the weather where she was (It was apparently all stormy... which I love. Thunder storms are the one thing I wish we had here).
Yesterday morning I was eating breakfast with Bird, Sis, and my folks. We were in a little local place I go to frequently enough the waitress knows me by my first name and always asks me how my parents are doing. We're sitting there and the TV up above the counter seating switches to a news report. The show a picture of my friends state, and a picture of some of the weather going on. My instant instinct was to tell everyone, Oh! That's where a friend of mine is! But I did not. For one it would have been rude to exclaim it out over the current conversation, but two no one there knows my friend, so they would have been like "That's nice Tenth." *SIGH*
-Tenth
Last night I heard the most awesome thunder over the phone.
Sis and Bird are in the area. It's been really nice to see them. We went downtown for a while one night. Sis and Bird were commenting how nice it was to be back in Santa Cruz, and how where they moved to feels really bland and "white washed" compared to here. She was telling me that during her job interview she was given a ride from the airport by someone who is now a coworker. While at a stop sigh someone with the classic punk rock look, black leather jacket, plaid pants, black boots, and a bright green mohawk, passed in front of the car. The coworker drew in a quick breath and comented that was something you didn't see everyday. Sis laughed and said, "Actually, I do." In this town, I don't even notice the different people anymore. They just are. The diversity of the people here is perhaps the thing I love the most. I knew Sis and Bird had been go to long because they were noticing and commenting on people that didn't even register as different. At one point one of out more notable pieces of local color saw me, recognized me, and in a friendly tone asked me how it was going. I responded and he nodded his head to me. When we got past my sister said, "Holy cow Tenth! It looked like he actually knew who you were!" I laughed and told her that because I saw so many people walk past the man and pretend he wasn't there I made it a point to say “hi” to him every time I saw him, so I guess he remembered me.
Later that night a friend of mine called to taunt me about the weather where she was (It was apparently all stormy... which I love. Thunder storms are the one thing I wish we had here).
Yesterday morning I was eating breakfast with Bird, Sis, and my folks. We were in a little local place I go to frequently enough the waitress knows me by my first name and always asks me how my parents are doing. We're sitting there and the TV up above the counter seating switches to a news report. The show a picture of my friends state, and a picture of some of the weather going on. My instant instinct was to tell everyone, Oh! That's where a friend of mine is! But I did not. For one it would have been rude to exclaim it out over the current conversation, but two no one there knows my friend, so they would have been like "That's nice Tenth." *SIGH*
-Tenth
Last night I heard the most awesome thunder over the phone.