I have come to these conclusions that I repeatedly visit throughout life, a subterfuge of emotions that empower me for a time, then crash back into my face, no love lost.
Today I had plans with a few different people, but I really feel like being inside myself today. The usual distractions are gone, and I just need to take care of business. The screenplay I plan on working on at 5 and not stopping until midnight. I'm gonna take the dog into the city and get the keys to open up the gym tomorrow, which should be nice and stress-less. Then I come back and paint the crap out of something. I am angry today, but it's that latent kind of energy that fuels the fire instead of sucking you inside. Oh and the summer, I see it taking down my friends left and right. I guess prophetic love has the ability to do that, even if it isn't grounded into fastness.
Colorfast. I always want to remain true to myself, my inner demons, monsters and angels. It has rarely occurred that anyone has the ability to even fuck with that stuff, and when I have, I somehow end up getting ...
Sometimes I waiver back and forth across the lines of caring and not so much. But I realize beauty when I see it, and for someone who is perpetually afraid of death, life is one of those things that needs to be tasted and savored and appreciated.
I have been watching my friend squirm and wiggle over stresses imposed by those "not in the know." She's a good person and continually forgets that things happen in the order that they are going to; we try to exercise rights and obligations over our lives that sometimes are out of our hands. If you could control people's reactions to you, then we would all be bored and disinterested. Which is precisely how I feel sometimes. You can shoot out your energy to get good or bad attention depending on the intention, and this is a practice I exercise frequently. I remember talking about this hanging off a ledge near Christopher Street and how every person we directed to look at us without speaking really did crane their necks.
Music to me is like an old lover you hide away in the sock drawer for a time. My lovers parallel battery powered devices as of ...
Sean made a comment to me about my less hostile attitude to the general public sense when I write on my livejournal.
So there I go again.
In later news, Valerie and I were in Philly Hillbilly on Tuesday night, which was cool. I bought a cowboy hat and let the people ask me if I was from Texas. Then I went to this place called Tattooed Mom's and ate food, chatted up a bartender/waiter guy, and got the fuck out of there.
Oh Philly, why are you full of girls wearing hip hugger pants with skin handles exploding out the top? Actually there were boys like that, too. It was one of the tubbier cities I have seen as of late.
