but where in all this noise am I waiting for the clouds to be blown away away away away away into the sun

Hard day alone under the gloom of the clouds (I keep waiting for a storm), kept company by poppers and porn before a last-minute bus ride downtown to wander the skyways (almost impervious to the arm-in-armed), looking for a Big Mac to drown my sorrows in, settling for a gross burrito before Kill Bill Vol. 2, then bus shelter for a few minutes with folksy Minnesotans smoking weed in baggy clothes, then the #4 home.

A day of rejections--Everyday People, a second-hand thrift store in Uptown, found nothing they could sell in my two grocery bags full of used clothes. "We're being selective right now," she said plaintively as she rejected my rejects. Back at my bike, one of the bags ripped open and embarrassing khakis and polo shirts and an ugly orange jacket from Lancashire days spilled out onto the sidewalk, where Ladies who Lunch leaving Chino Latino had to step around them on their way to their valet'd Hummers. I threw the lot away.

Also, a fight over the phone. How hard do I have to work in life before I can stop feeling so fucking alone? Confused, I lay on the couch and contemplated the confusion of maple leaves outside the windows. Not sure what's going to happen. I felt depressed and unknown, dejected.

The highlight of the day was a long talk with Glen in D.C. while I lay on my bed drinking Pilsner Urquell. I can't tell Glen I'm drinking when I call him on a Saturday night; he already has a few friends who do that. I'm slowly turning in to one of them. We discussed the various establishments we belong to and discussed the life cycle of the cicada.

What's funny is that a long time ago I refused to listen to Mirah or give her music a chance--simply out of spite. But I'm listening to her right now and I do really like it actually. It's good one a.m. music when you're on your third beer and you can't sleep so maybe she'll be in your ear as you walk around taking blurry photos of Uptown alleys. Whether or not I like Mirah, I cling to the tattered belief that there is more to me than that.

As he wrote this, Jason listened to Archipelago from the album You Think It's Like This But... by Mirah

Posted by jason at May 23, 2024 12:51 AM