posts aren’t all winners

No luck getting started today, a bit of insurmountability ringing the livingroom, annabelle the cat racing in giant tidal waves around the edges of the sandbars that lock me on the couch. Shipwreck, stranded!

Gotta find a new job. There is this brilliant book, Vladmir Paval’s “Catapult,” that is really reminding me of my current situation. A man waits and waits and dreams of the means and motivation to transcend his everyday life and fundamentally alter it, but he keeps on relying on everyone around him to foster change, hesitating, rationalizing, worrying. In the end of the story, after exasperating everyone around him with his own reluctance to adjust, he decided on a radical course of action and is totally prepared to act on it- when, in an abrupt coincidence, he unbuckles his seat belt in over-eagerness at the landing of his plane, and is thrown into the cabin door, dying instantly. Like a catapult.

Okay so in retrospect it isn’t exactly all that. But I need to escape this job that is destroying my spirit. I keep rationalizing finding a time that I will do it fiscally responsible and such, but the reality is that this moment won’t ever exist. I subsist on a wage so small that I won’t ever be able to afford making my own terms til I change my employers. The arrival of my loans, which I’d otherwise quickly spend distracting myself from the tediousness, should facilitate the transition. OH god oh god though, the programming runs deep, each call i ignore is a tiny heart attack. In any case I have my reference and my rent. I’m off to the world, my slight goods wobbling on a stick. I’ve got my Kathy, we’ve no idea where we’re going, the bus pulls away and our eyes head everywhere as it all starts setting in

So sleepy. This hissing laptop is reminding me of that Joni Mitchell song about Ludwig, “cold white keys, well it aint no substitute for the feel of a warm warm body loving your touch.” i’m back into the spacey territory. the clopping crescendo did a bruckner twist, stopped dead at the summit, and i’m all sprawled overboard with the weight and momentum and intensity, wobbling towards nothing and everything, the quiet nighttime, the crickets chirping outside my window, cars running far below. the wind is jogging around each eave of the house across from me, i imagined for awhile how van gogh woulda done it. the cyprus trees ache up with me, like teeth in a big mouth holding a pause. twenty bars tacet, watch your fingertips tremble. head nodding.

Ernest Bloch is whispering about, here in the dim living room, imparting some clarinets swells here and there. Some details of strings, crescendo, dissonance resolving itself, rising… they skitter about in the corners and gloom.

I should pay for some new light bulbs, this morose space is bizarre when my spirits raise themselves. The cat is curled on my lap, she’s passed all the day like this. The furriest ball and chain that has ever been, perpetually yawning in fawn.

My morning was passed shirking obligations. I spent all afternoon in a hazy attempt to find a new job position, I’m a sled dog desperate to advance to a new harness, a new vista of the husky directly in front of me. Eventually there will be trees and white spiral, i swear it

I’m not concentrating so well. I’m all hair, angles, freeze frames. Theres a girl
Nothing seizes up the whole machinery thuslike. Thank God.

 

Tear it all down

I care only about warmth. Its like a glowing cabin here it is, trees and white spiral behind the window, wolves beneath the door. But I’m there sinking my feet into the carpet, dreaming of you. Ceiling busting towards the sky

12:45am. streetlamps flicker, the bedsprings of the room above me groan each ticker-tape nightmare of the accountant who sleeps there, papers in neat piles, shoes polished by the door,
alarm set for 5,

the horizon of the blackpurple sky glows orange with a faint green
the lights of the San Francisco side radio antenna glow meekly over the charcoal bay

why & where are all these cars off to? how are you, humanity? i love you, im at home.
i haven’t got one see, i preen here.

i will never understand why humans spend so much alone.
this is not my choice
this is not my choice

rest your heads, humans. take my empty arms
tonights superfluous affection is a well worth overwhelming

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