Paris Hilton wants your afterbirth!
It's true!
wait, no it's not..
well, it could be...
Fuck. Alot has happened since I last wrote on this thing. Vacation in Fl where the weather dripped in at 80 degrees and Christmas made its presence known amongst family and old friends and bars and cafes and dancing and memories picked up like lovely stones that are too heavy to put in your pocket so skip them over water and light a cigarette even though you no longer smoke..
but this is for old times sake, right?
New Year shuffles in with Love and beer on cold steps and the space needle explodes and there are arms there to hold you.. arms that will never leave you and good friends there to make laugh. Plans and FUTURE cross arms and flash stern faces but just keep breathing for at least for now they are waiting with an indulgent patience.
And work and work and work...
Dispense medications and sooth the ever-blossoming madness of people you are not paid to love but people you love and yet are paid to be with. Will they make her leave? Will you see her after that? Just how many times have I said: "Yes, your face is still there" ? Meetings, workshops, paperwork. I want to give it up someday, but when I talk to people who are not social workers and are only artists I feel like I keep swimming in their lake but no matter how far I swim out my feet always touch the ground. However...
They seem to really get more done. This job makes it difficult to focus on yourself.
Anyway..
The collective is taking a break from "art" so to speak and now everyone wants to design a board game. Okay, I'm up for that I suppose. I am recording this weekend but on my solo attempt to get my computer recording-ready..well.. I haven't even hooked up my new Port. I have had it almost a month. The warranty is about to expire. I hadn't been to the slam for many many months and when I went a few weeks ago..I just wasn't inspired. Disappointed in the new venue. Just not feeling the point of competitive poetry anymore. Writing going fine, alot of lyrics, some script stuff, etc etc..
I think I need a new "thing". Maybe I'll make a series of gross monster dolls out of duct tape and ketchup packets.
I'm not down, I'm just well..kinda bored. Same old bars, same old places. I'm gonna shut up now. This is getting long.
wait, no it's not..
well, it could be...
Fuck. Alot has happened since I last wrote on this thing. Vacation in Fl where the weather dripped in at 80 degrees and Christmas made its presence known amongst family and old friends and bars and cafes and dancing and memories picked up like lovely stones that are too heavy to put in your pocket so skip them over water and light a cigarette even though you no longer smoke..
but this is for old times sake, right?
New Year shuffles in with Love and beer on cold steps and the space needle explodes and there are arms there to hold you.. arms that will never leave you and good friends there to make laugh. Plans and FUTURE cross arms and flash stern faces but just keep breathing for at least for now they are waiting with an indulgent patience.
And work and work and work...
Dispense medications and sooth the ever-blossoming madness of people you are not paid to love but people you love and yet are paid to be with. Will they make her leave? Will you see her after that? Just how many times have I said: "Yes, your face is still there" ? Meetings, workshops, paperwork. I want to give it up someday, but when I talk to people who are not social workers and are only artists I feel like I keep swimming in their lake but no matter how far I swim out my feet always touch the ground. However...
They seem to really get more done. This job makes it difficult to focus on yourself.
Anyway..
The collective is taking a break from "art" so to speak and now everyone wants to design a board game. Okay, I'm up for that I suppose. I am recording this weekend but on my solo attempt to get my computer recording-ready..well.. I haven't even hooked up my new Port. I have had it almost a month. The warranty is about to expire. I hadn't been to the slam for many many months and when I went a few weeks ago..I just wasn't inspired. Disappointed in the new venue. Just not feeling the point of competitive poetry anymore. Writing going fine, alot of lyrics, some script stuff, etc etc..
I think I need a new "thing". Maybe I'll make a series of gross monster dolls out of duct tape and ketchup packets.
I'm not down, I'm just well..kinda bored. Same old bars, same old places. I'm gonna shut up now. This is getting long.
posted by Human at 7:16 PM
1 Comments:
do not be too bored, if I have my way I will be living 4 hours away within 4 months or so.....fucked up part is I never get my way.... it is what I want though.
-GOO-
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