Thursday, October 16, 2003

Same Old Evening Jazz

Superstitions and rituals starting to set in again. I want to have a schedule where I rotate around the city sitting on different park benches. I want to feel myself move in every which way I want to from the living room to the bathroom to all over everywhere.

I don't know how I get myself in these fixes. I am such a sucker but so interested at first until challenge ceases. It's so hateful of me.

I am tired ( s o t i r e d) of all the everything on constant repeat; angularly from everywhere. And of me being tired, whine. I need a change. Change of heart. Change of perspective. I need a someone, to help me move in all the right ways.

So it has been that I have been throwing out and giving away everything that feels too heavy to think about. Anything too attached. If I can't throw it away at the moment, I keep it, and throw it away next week when the mood strikes again.

I make sure I get rid of all the waste paper that goes in and comes out here. I feel so manipulated by my own moods.

I do feel better when I see women pushing their carts slowly in the grocery store mouthing "Strawberry Wine" in secret unison with other worn looking women. I want to introduce them to each other, to push in a small formation. It's the women I havent met, and will never meet, that I become friends with. Keep in mind, this isnt a mutual arrangement.

I feel better flipping through the dictionary or reading outloud to the children my mother babysits from time to time. Thinking of those oddly placed beautiful brick buildings in the middle of the Gaslamp Quarter. Of a soon anniversary in Merced. Of how Nina Simone has been dragging and dropping my heart but putting it back gently in its cage when she's done. Of the lots of love that I can sense when I haven't shut myself off completely. And of the lots of love I have to give away.