ericboy's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Glass-Bottomed Life let's get out of here just straight up spark and disappear and leave without any warning let's just set our sights on that second star to the right and go straight on till morning [go straight on till morning] and we'll fly to that land and you'll never see us again these words are unneeded. It's been another long day. SURPRISE!! I'm coralled at Lestat's, people-watching while I should be sleeping. Reading Maggie Estep, a spirit that I can ALMOST feel, and feeling empty, like a cigarette butt. Everyone's love and hate and indignance merely passes through me, leaves a stain, and vanishes. This is all my fault; there's no questioning that. I could choose to talk to the woman that I've been eyeing all evening, who intrigues me with her detatched ambling and self-assuredness to eat pastries by herself in public. But where would that put me, aside from on display and one spot. The more I try to fit in to the world that occupies the space outside of me, the more I feel like a separate particle, passing through in an impenetrable bubble; looking at the world as one would see the sea in a glass-bottomed boat. I am the anti-man; I embody nothing that would be assumed as quintessentially male and yet I'm not gay, much to the surprise of... everyone. People are always shocked when I tell them that I'm straight, like I missed a bus or something. "Really? Um... ok." Sorry to disappoint. Tomorrow will be long but manageable. A quick, painless shift at Border's, hawking the new Britney Spears album (Bludgeon me with something heavy Bludgeon me with something heavy bludgeonmewithsomethingheavy), then off to band practice, where we will not practice, but rather re-assemble the practice room and check out the video audio footage of Friday's show. The next three band practices have been cancelled, as the guitarist will be going out of town for Thanksgiving, and so I actually have free time coming up. Free time? What the hell is that? What the fuck am I supposed to do with myself? I have no social life, no friends, and no ideas as to how to burn hours without contractual obligation. I dread this. 2:58 a.m. - 2003-11-18 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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