it's 12:22 pm, on February 03, 2003 - reconcile. that's the word..

~

I always feel like I'm missing something when Bobby updates. Like he's got the key to life hidden somewhere in ugly jeans, stuck in his back pocket, maybe in his carry on. And I'm just playing at trying to get it off him.

But really, the secret to life is that he's freaking out just like us. except he's found a thing on the west coast that he can love enough to make him happy.

the east coast holds for me: a. nsync. b. knoxville. c. toronto.

the west coast holds for me: a. home.

Trying to -- what's the word? Brain, don't do this to me. No, I said stop it. No, I'm not buying you a car. If you don't start co-operating, I'm going to jam this pencil in my ear. Don't think I won't. I don't need it.

--reconcile! that's it.

Trying to reconcile these two opposing threads is a very trying process. A, I love nsync. They live in Orlando, it's sunny in Orlando, and our mythology guides our lives. Habits become rituals only when we let them, and all of that.

B, there's a massive revolution happening in toronto. Slowly, quietly. you can almost feel it. People are converging on the epicenter of a great mystical crisis. In less than a year Eros, Aphrodite and Ganymede are all going to be in the same square block, I'll wager my life. See above note on mythology governing one's life.

C, I'm from the pacific northwest, born and bred, and that sense of isolationism is never going to leave, it's never going to lessen. The geography out here won't change, whether I move away or not. Plus, my family lives here and much as I don't want to admit it, when I wasn't living at home I went crazy.

D, I feel so sick. I have felt sick ever since friday night. can't eat, can't think. my head hurts constantly and my stomach is trying to turn itself inside out. Now my brain has my body working for it.

Brain: "we're holding out so that she'll throw in a new toaster oven. Splitting headache! yeah!"

Me: "aha! I have tylenol! you won't thwart me yet."

Brain: "I have weapons beyond your wildest comprehension. All right, stomach, start roiling!"

Subconscious: [waves a placard half-heartedly]

Me: "Oh, fuck you."

I don't even want to know what my brain is going to do next. I mean, it has control of my speech, my motor skills. I'd better capitulate to its demands pretty quick, or the last y'all will hear from me is--

The brain would like to lodge a formal complaint as to the current state of affairs within disa's head. there are cobwebs growing, for chrissake. we're demanding a cleaning service, new car, and patio furniture.

Y'all laugh, but the truth of the matter is, I'm talking to myself, and leaving documentable evidence.

~

But seriously here, it's just about time for another spiritual journey. And I'm not talking about my monthly pilgramige to read Bryant's comic book collection. I need to move, I need to go. bobby is moving and going. Bobby is growing.

hell, my brain is demanding it. I have to give in.

~

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what would sith be nostalgic about anyway - November 24, 2015
moving truck dilemma - October 28, 2015
- - July 19, 2015
- - July 01, 2015
bruise - June 29, 2015

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