Tuesday, April. 18th/ 2000
A good album, as slick and urban as it really is I know I will not be shaking these personal associations... And that's cool by me.
I left the airport today alternating between stilted sobs and maniacal laughter.
Headed downtown afterwards. I needed to be around crowds of strangers. Or so I thought. Once I got there I wuz just getting skittish and petulant. People walking too close to me while carrying on hyped up and mundane conversations. sfk!!@#31js!!$anas;fhewrhih`2!!!!!!!#$1%!%JLAJDASLFJ@#$^!#%$!@#^@%&@&hee heee hee
And even, say, ten feet of space between me and other people wuz not enough. "How can this fucking person not realize how damn close to me they are? What's their freakin' problem? Step back! Get away from me!"
And on the buses, why the fuck is it always the worst fucking possible seat companion that is drawn to me? And sitting right fucking next to me? I wuz flailing my arms around today with three seperate people like this. I get all hemmed in by them, they've got their limbs all in my way, cornering me, and I'll start this absurd little mental patient dance... Starting with a series of furtive shooting glares, then I start *oops* moving my arms over in their way, then pushing against them deliberately, though thinly disguised as "Jesus, Isn't it obvious there ain't a lot of ROOM here? Move the fuck out of my SPACE!"
Realized I didn't want to be around strangers, I wanted to talk to strangers. I get so high on that. But I am usually the one to initiate such encounters. It never goes very far if I'm not the one who intitiates it. (I remember being in a bookstore and some guy approaching me, in that same way that I approach guys in bookstores..., and he starts talking to me, clearly flirting me up, in that hopeful and kind and inquisitive way... and I just got all- skittish and badly behaved, poorly contained... Till he just wandered away, seeming half perturbed, half disturbed by my admittedly weird ...reaction, to 'casual conversation'.)
If you don't treat me better / one day you'll wake up cold.
I guess I didn't want to notice the stars gone from your eyes.
So, I needed to wander around aimlessly amidst many strangers. That usually helps me. Or I think that it should. I keep thinking that it should. It has in the past, so I try it again and again. Sometimes it works, mostly it doesn't. ...Either way I'd still be feeling the same heavy-souled sadness, lack of stability, drifting lost weirded outedness (and annoyance at myself for feeling anything at all other than relief, I ought to be feeling just relief, right? Fuck it all. I'm fine and free. Right?) whether I wuz out walking in these city crowds or moping at home in my bedroom listening to music or sitting at my computer. Best to stay away from home for a little while. "Keep walking, keep walking, singing sometimes"
Back in Port Moody, after that long bus ride (took up two seats on a crowded bus, so I could twist and watch the water and mountains as I halfslept half moped) walking along St. John's, the evening greyhound to Penticton went by me. I would have gotten on it. But I didn't. I am here now. I'll be gone soon. But I'm here now.
Every fucking song that comes on my winamp is dragging me down even fucking further. Depressing goddamned music. And all the more upbeat songs (the cardigans! ) just feel obnoxious, alienating, grating.
"Set Out Running", Neko Case. I keep needing that. A damn good song. My sentiments exactly, at this time. It's not happy and it's not sad. It's just the way it is.