10/21/97
To say what then? I can’t remeber what it was I was supposed to be pondering all week long in terms of therapy. What I’ve ended up pondering is always the same. I end up walking home from work at night imagining up a conversation with him. him. you know, that man that is made for me? the one i will recognize the second i see him? fisher king…some people could be sitting right across the table all evening and never find each other. Two others could be all the way around the earth and nothing could keep them apart… I’d rather be in the second category. I mean, wouldn’t you? Heard from Cary Blocker, how many hours did I spend, do I still spend in conversations with him that never really happen? I probably could have done the whole past three months over again.
I often wonder, what would happen if I just stopped speaking? Hearing all the noises, all day long, and not realizing what noises are mine. I’ve noticed the differences in noise levels since I moved out here. Going home everything immediately seems silent, but “If we could hear the grass grow” I find out you can. What is taken for silence in the city is just the absense of human sound. The earth is never silent. Sometimes I wonder how noisy it would still be if we only heard the sounds we ourselves make. Then there are the man made noises that machines make. What if we took all that a way? Can we have a national day of silence? To hear what our world actually sounds like?
10/21(?)97
how is it I can be at work all day, and not know what the date is? I can write it one miillion times over and over again on little slips of paper. And still I go have my wednesday drink at the galleray at 111 Minna and forget all about my day. Or rather, drink myself into a state over my day. As is the case now. I am alone. shit. listening to fiona apple. in the blue of my oblivion. I have an inerview that i cannot comprehend. that i am leaving the mad river of insanity is absolutelty beyond me.
and still i am alone. will i just keep moving place to place until i find someone to satiate that need? I was thinking tonight, as i ordered a beer from the ever so sleek bar at the gallery, the place to be scene, at least for now, You know that cliche? you know the one… it’s the across the crowded room one. you’re standing alone at some bar or on some dance floor, and you look through the crowd and there he is, the man that is meant for you. what will he look like? what music will he listen to? how will he turn you on? where? in the bathroom? on the street in some alley way? looking into your eyes on mash transit? the subway hour when the best you can hope for is that the stranger you’re pressed up against is the hottie you’ve been longing for all your life? and in that crowded bar, pressing in, needing your sierra nevada pale ale, you realize, you have to come in alone like a loser, to be able to find the man in your fantasy. because what the hell are you going to do with the people you came in with? how do you explain the prescence of your friend with you, who happens to be a guy, to your inevitable other, your other half that you were pulled toward? the world isn’t going to stop for you, clearing that path straight for each other, just because it’s finally happened.