Friday, January 21, 2011

Superficial, Sicky sick and 91 days clean

91 days clean, that's right. I see you all around town, in people's arms, bringin' em down and I'm like FUCK YOU (ooo-ooo-ooo).
But about last night....

I guess I over-did it . I have been a little cocky lately with the whole my-immunity-can't-be-broken additude. I am severely suffering from a head cold now. And my computer's gonna get a kick in the reboot and it's ram shoved in the rama-lama-ding dong if it keeps fucking up. Fucking computer.
Who knew disturbing pornographic obscure sites from Germany would be a threat of infection via internet....
*shrugs*

I went and watched my friend and his dad play at the Co-op last night (the one on Holly). I don't like limitations expected from my personality, so it's kinda hard to re-adjust the vibrations in the room as Jools Holland would say when resurfacing a new template for friendship, as requested. Or enforced. Whichever.
I felt a little judged and was hiding the i-got-caught-passing-notes-in-class look. Blech.
But as always, they sounded great.

Halfway through their set, Mitch from 3 Trees called and asked I come down and sing for open-mic. I accepted and headed for there. Oh, bt-dub, I have my "forever-bike" with the faux-baby-ape-hangers back so I had some "whee" moments down the hill. Benny was there, and it was nice have him around. True friends always come back to each other a little weathered and smarter. He gave me a necklace made of an AK47 shell and Abalone stone, it looks like lipstick and I am never taking it off. It is muy bonita, and girlie-badass, as he put it, "like me" he said.

I've always grappled with embracing fully my tomboy or girlie side. I guess being bi-polar has benefits, as I can get away with many split/duel personality issues. And not have to justify them. Like at home... I am a complete introvert. I rarely speak and when I do it's probably to just ask someone about something in the house. If I were to launch into art or music with these people, I would get the glance of someone with lepracy. Or so I assume.

I digress....

Mitch and I played "Mercedes Benz", and just some blues-y stuff I sang over, it was different than the blues most people choose for me and I found myself really screaming and losing myself in it. When we were done, the world came back to me, and I had people telling me (while I was still on stage) that I have the "goosebump effect" on people, and that I sounded great. Someone also request I sing again. I did "At Last" A Capella. Very sarcastically, and a little too emotional. I have no harness for these things, though, so fuck it.
Someone did mention it would have been Janis's 67th Birthday that day. I am sure there is more meaning there that I can grasp.

Mitch asked me where my friend was and I told him finishing a gig up the street, then launched the mission from Mitch to get him down there.

I was a little reluctant. As mentioned earlier, when someone all of a sudden doesn't like me for who I am and I have to altar ALL OF ME, and they can remain intrinsically FLAWED in ways, but I have to accept that and never ask them to change (cause it just be my stoopid ol' "perception"...) it ranges from pissed off, to ashamed, to self-loathing, and back to anger. Then pride, and I just want to purge that person from my system completely. I have been on a N.M. diet, and I feel a little thinner and better for it, honestly.

He did come down. We practiced in the parkade around the corner down the alley. I gathered a couple people from the 'Shoe, and I thought we sounded pretty good. As if it matters.

But I got a lot of compliments.

I ended up eventually at Erin's since David had some pizza he offered me. I ate some then headed over to my friend's for a music lesson. Short-lived but good. Sometimes I feel like he just wants to rub in how good he is and be in constant spotlight-mode. And not teach. But he did give me an amp to borrow, a Dobro book, and a Hulk-feces-green violin... as to pursuede my friend Jackson to trade the lap steel he has for that particular crazy instrument.

I felt zen-calm and frenzied at the same time mentally inside being there. So many hours spent breaking down walls, only to be FUCKING SUPERFICIAL HUMAN BEINGS NOW. Gag me. Oh yay, long-live transparency, and surface-conversations! Ooh how fun, we can be two of the most intelligent people and bottle it up to play "friendsies" so what... emotions can never strike a chord (no pun intended) in each other, and be calm and cool, and collected, and neurotic and peachy-fucking-keen, and so very very... BLAH. Without depth.

I would rather see fire in someone's eyes then nothing but my own bored reflection.

DESULTORY BEHAVIOR IS NOT IMMATURITY OR UNINTELLIGENT, it is fucking PRIMAL AND HUMAN.

I can play that game, and then I become cold, an ice queen with a sarcastic disposition and bitterness coursing through my veins.
But it will never seep through, I will smile a sticky sweet smile, and instead of thinking of all the beauties they once held in my eyes.... I will see faults and imperfections. They will never be able to call me out on it, I will never give someone something to put their finger on if I so choose, and that it how I will bleed out.
I will feel powerful and powerless to emotional injury deep inside. I win, and I lose.

Left NM's house and spent the night in David's bed/arms. Calm and enveloped and comfy. The boy looks at me like he is afraid and likes it. I don't know what I think of that. Crazy people tend to do that to squares. But he is fucking smart and funny... and that's my pre-reqs. He is completely aware and acceptant of my intensity. Which I need. And maybe on my good days.... worthy of even.

He bought me a yummy breakfast and coffee today and we sat and read the Whatsup! together. He is a nice boy. Well.... 33 isn't a boy I guess. But if Chupa taught me anything about 30-something-year-olds....

We slept in and blared Morphine while exchanging explicit secrets and naughty-doings. He has a nice.... smile. Yum, as Victrola T. Firecracker's mantra on the positive-side was.

Saw Ace for half a second. Damn that boy can roll outta bed lookin like a million kah-jillion bucks. And so effortless. He suggested naughty things too... .but I had to decline. My prior engagement of the morning was in the car waiting to take me home. Junkie whores never change at heart I guess. But damn do I love that boy. Ace is one of the most amazing people I have ever met.

I am going to sit here and play more lap steel and be sicky sick, and listen to death metal with my roomate, Slash. Yes. Slash. Fuckety fuck. Life is weird. Just a compliment for your life, it's kinda wee-ud. And let's not get started on shortcuts for it, right.



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