Wrapping day early. Staying inside anywhere getting to me, and I’ve hopped around too much today, from one coffee spot to another, lunch with Davin, and now here (where I won’t specify)…. Well over 90 degrees on the other side of this window. May be here a while, at this spot.
So much I want to write but can’t. At least on the blog, anyway. The shift making itself more known…. New possibilities and opportunity, in everything. All scenes and turns, corners and characters. If could post what I wanted, it would change everything. And this blog is “About EVERYTHING”, right? Just wait Mikey, wait….
Where I am right now, Friday, ending day a bit early and I will, I can. Ladies to my left, talking about something in their lives, something important, something that impacts several in their circle, or family. Life doesn’t wait, so why should I, saying inwardly so no one can hear but so you can read. Remembering in high school and before when something would happen between friends or in a circle of people, and it was like the most traumatic thing to ever occur. College too. It’s nothing when juxtaposed to later-in-life occurrences, that I know. Well, I know now.
Ladies now talk about sales, something about sales. At my age, more and more, I deplore sales and selling. Can’t stand listening to them anymore, may put in headphones.
Jesus, yes, put in the headphones.
Headphones in but I can still hear them. Also hearing my own thoughts, the LoFi beats and they’re shoved to the side, deaf to them completely. More music in this shift, the contrast of me now and me a couple months ago, or last year when all this covid shit started. Keep telling self more music, but how…. Friend of mine posted a book which looks more like a journal from the lead singer of Stone Temple Pilots. Tempted to drive to Barnes & Noble after this and get it, or look at it.
Here I am, in this spot which I’ve written more times than I can remember. And what can I remember. Whatever I can…. High school talent shows, reciting on stage, people screaming… what was I, 13 the first time, and I think 17 the last. Why am I thinking about that. The age, then and now, the life then and what its composition is now.
Friend Alix comes over sees if I need anything I tell her not yet and the music cuts out. What the fuck… goddamn wifi. Have to turn it off then back on I just troubleshot. That’s annoying. More interest problems taking me away from my thoughts and daydreaming of travel, to anywhere. New characters and stories, getting the fuck out of Santa Rosa if only for a weekend.
What I won’t now write, I will write late, and post later. The story and struggle, and if not a struggle then a rich Road of instruction. New scenes and Roads approach, I know.