I am on the deck tonight, just me and the feral cat. I like having a wild cat. She doesn't bother with me, but sometimes she takes comfort in lying near when I am out. I have eaten a huge portion of sushi and have drunk a bottle of sake all alone on the deck. Not alone. I had the cat. Not sushi. I had kobachi. You can never trust an observationalist. We are never perfect.
As I ate looking out at the fading blue of the southern sky (no--I am looking northward in a southern sky), I had many connected but random thoughts--about art, about literature, about life. I am troubled deeply right now, but alone and with sake and then the palate cleansing scotch, I am less frantic and better able to consider. Some of the trouble is just voodoo. The plumber came today and assessed the problem. I will need to replace the supply line from the street to the apartment. It will be a tough job digging through the oh-so-many tree roots that lay there. The harder the dig--$$ cha-ching $$. But that has been my year, hasn't it? Money and I have never been lasting friends.
My travel/art buddy sent me some ads to expensive bars somewhere in Paradise, deep leather, dark bar, crystal glasses. I said he knew my addictions--things I cannot afford and women that I cannot keep. "Like the rest of us," he said.
My life just won't take a turn for the better. How many blows can I stand? I have some other issues I will not talk about now, and I appreciate that you do not ask. There is nothing you can do but appease your curiosity, and I will not be able to help you there, so don't be an irritant.
"The [deck's] a fine and private place/ but none, I think, do there embrace."
You know the source. Marvell.
I have chosen ten 20"x16" photos for auction. I can't imagine them selling since not even my friendly readers took me up on my offer of "a special price," but what the hell. They are absolutely lovely, and in truth, I hate to part with them, but I have so many hundreds and hundreds of them lying in bins, and I was going to burn the lot of them at one point anyway, so. . . .
It is another perfect day. I took some nerve pills to counter my anxiety/depression last night. It was getting the best of me. I found myself thinking of dark and dangerous things and thought it best to put myself out for the evening, but they were strong and this morning is no picnic.
Have you heard of this (link)? Delta 8 THC? Legal highs for people in states that don't have legal marijuana? This reminds me of the time when they were selling "bath salts" in smoke shops. And what was that shit that Miley Cyrus used to smoke that wasn't marijuana? I just Googled it. Salvia. They made it illegal after Miley made it "a thing." So how long do you think Delta 8 will last? Meanwhile, all the neighbors on my mother's block are smoking pot now that they have their medical marijuana cards. Sitting out with my mother in the late afternoons, the air is full of it. Her neighborhood likes to party, I think. I wonder if my mother will be a stoner soon?
But now, last night's horrors are coming back to me, and I don't know what to do. The morning is getting away from me however. I will have to move. Anything. . . anything but thinking and trembling.
Oh, fuck. I've just remembered tonight is the Full Moon, the Snow Moon.
"But at my back I always here/Time's winged chariot hurrying near."
ReplyDeleteI’ve always felt free to express in this space. That’s good isn’t it.
I think so. Your interesting writing and whatever visual, of course, provide a launching point for that expression. But sometimes it’s even just the little white block of comment space to type whatever I want into. After all these many years, there is a routine to it that helps me decompress.
Most especially in the years since Toms death. And this past covid year. Was therapeutic writing. If I haven’t thanked you recently, for that space, thank you. I mean that.
Today’s post is good. Both. The writing is good. Irritant stuck out. Who’s being an irritant ? I bet it is Qs fault.
You know pearls are made from irritants. Nacre. That’s the layers of those beautiful rainbow colors we see in shells. I’ve always loved pearls and the word nacre. My mother gave me my first real strand on my wedding day. “The more you wear them against your skin - the better the color they will become.” I think it has something to do with the natural stone and the oils of our skin. It keeps the pearls luminous. That’s what she told me. Ma. Pearls make everything something. I’m not sure what. But it works.
Where was I? See. Free Expression.
I sort of giggled reading the dialogue between you and travel art buddy.
Anyways. Look forward to seeing which Pictures are coming my way.
It’s never good to know a friend is feeling unwell Anywhere in their lives. So. Wishing better for you always buddy boy.