ericboy's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- \"What does it take to get a drink in this place?\" - The Postal Service Played a gig last night in the ghetto, at a ghetto bar, on the tiniest stage in the history of tiny stages. Not many people were there, but they all seemed to enjoy it. We played a killer set. We're getting better; tighter; more in tune with each other. Another show on Tuesday and then we'll be done with January. Today I had breakfast and then went to work. It was unusually hot and made me tired. More tired than I should have felt after getting almost nine hours of sleep. Work was slow and boring. I put stickers on things, listened to The Postal Service and Richard Cheese, talked to people, drank coffee. I couldn't turn my mind off, filling me with thoughts of random nature. Like a mix CD of my musings put on "shuffle". A pleasant memory here, a graphic horrific image there, a name I haven't heard in a year, an epiphany that I thought I'd forgotten, an idea for a script, an idea for a song, a clever exercise in self-destruction. I couldn't turn it off. I got off and came home. The roommate was just then getting ready for sleep. I was tired but not sleepy so I left. I haven't made it out of the building yet, and I don't know what I have in mind to do, but I've taken a small blue notebook and a pen with me and we'll see what happens. I'm so _______________. I looked at the empty screen for a full 45 seconds before deciding on that end to that sentence. I don't know how I feel right now. As I said, I'm tired but not sleepy. My brain is busy regurgitating the past and sowing seeds for the future, but my present seems just outside my peripheral. Just outside my current functions. I'm too busy being right now that I can't think of right now. Too busy driving to watch the road. It's hard to explain. Hell, it's hard to feel. The easy answers won't help us here.The easy answers never come too easily. What did you think I'd become when you stopped calling me "son"? What did you think you'd create by feeding me all your hate? You made rules to make sure that I deserve this. Maybe I just need a drink. 11:30 p.m. - 2005-01-23 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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