Hot Boys and Music: Our Conversations Always Go Like This...

It's after four in the morning. I have a lot on my mind, so I came once again to the humble fire escape. The only signs of life I see are from the cars in the distance traveling on the highway and the slow-burning ember slowly burning its way down my cigarette. I finish my cigarette and see the breath from my lungs push its way back into the world.

La mente ahora.

Someone told me that my blogs have been somewhat emo lately. I feel like that might be true. The only reasoning I can deduce is that it's because the breath coming from my mouth is being used only for breathing, and not for sustaining life by other means.  I'm not sure what that all entails, but I feel as though I've been letting things culminate to this point and now I have such an amalgamation of simple ideas that should be so easy to categorize but I can't see them.  For some reason, my mind doesn't want for me to deal.  If I cannot, then I cannot.

I had to go outside.  It's not too cold here.  Wrapped in a blanket, the only parts of me that are not warm are gently touched by the cold outside, which isn't here to harm me.  Rather, it gently reminds me that outside is not somewhere I should stay long.  I do think that I could stay up to watch the sunrise.  I'm not sure what else to do with myself.  I am no longer sleepy.  No, I have not been up all day to this hour, I slept for a few hours this evening, but was roused by steps and a voice in the hallway.

The light in the parking lot comes on every once in a while.  It lives on a timer, a light that shocks into life and slowly grows to its purpose, only to shut off a moment later.  I can't imagine what people did before heaters.  I mean, I know that they had fires.  I get that...but the coldness.  Why would anyone live anywhere not tropical?  I imagine that this might have had an odd effect on the planet if the world's population resided solely in tropical places.

I haven't seen live jazz music in too long.  I long for it...to be drunken on the sound, to be paralyzed because the sound surrounds me and holds me in place.  Sometimes I wish that I still played.  If I did, I'm sure I would have to find somewhere to play.  I miss my saxophone.  He lies dormant in a dark corner in a basement a thousand miles away (not quite 1,000...more like...900 miles).

Un foto de un Hydra.

I feel like I have to be strong right now.  I have no idea why.  The more I try to think about things, the more cloudy it becomes.  I feel like I'm trying to kill Hydra.  It isn't working for me.  I'm not very strong and I surely have no idea how to wield a sword.  ...or any weapons, for that matter.

I've also experienced a sharp rise in the amount of physical pain occurring in my life.  That should teach me to try to fight people when they're hulked out or have Herculean strength.  ...or at least some sort of Goliath strength.  It won't.  I'll still fight.  (disclaimer: I don't actually fight people.  ...not like real anger fighting.  ...maybe it *does* occasionally have a tinge of anger, but nothing mean, especially to those with whom I fight).

I feel as though I haven't said anything at all this whole blog.  I feel like it's because I can't figure out my feelings.  I don't want to make any of them go away, I just want to understand what all is there and to see if I can do anything about it.  As far as any sort of real update in my life, I don't have to work today or next week Friday.  TWO four-day weeks in a row will be divine.  The week after that is going to kick my ass though.  ...and with a new year means that I will have lots of vacation time to plan.  Don't get your hopes up, readers.  I have my destination picked. ...and it will be such a grand experience.  <3

This is to a happy December 24th and 25th.  ...whatever they mean to any of you.  I hope that they bring you happiness whether you're alone or with other...living things.  Also, if you killed a tree to have it in your house for a month, you deserve to have a fucking tree needle sliver.  Dick.