fables of the reconstruction

whew, i thought this thing had died...the link didn't work all day yesterday. just goes to show how everything is so temporary.
the internet is even more of a "vapour" than the ghostliness of tangible things.

i'm having a bleeding-soul day. now's about the time when most people will have several beers, or smoke a joint, or deal with it in a socially acceptable way. all i'll say is, when i started this blog shit, i was really alone, and inside i still pretty much am.

i'm thinking about dark things, dark faces from the past. i could write myself out of those worlds, but now they're here, still, nibbling on the corners of the sun-blasted days...waving cautionary, spindly fingers at new friendships. telling me what a melodramatic bitch i am. that no matter what cool bands i've discovered or what people i've met, that i'll always be that nobody, drooling and snotting on the rug, crying for her mother when you kick her.

i know i have PTSD (on top of everything else). i'm not sure what to do about it, other than this. i don't want a million e-friends to post comments like, "ooo, we're SO here for you" and stuff, that's not why i've ever written this shit.

i'm guessing that PTSD, in and of itself, is the physical presence of tragedy and/or violence in your cells. anyone who's ever lost anyone close knows that. anyone who's been in a war. anyone who raises their hands in front of their face too quickly, or is "tactile defensive."

i guess this is when most people take up tae kwan do, or learn how to master something outrageously complicated and physically exhilerating, like windsurfing or skydiving. people "take back their lives" every day. huh.

Gravyboat Sails On...

...and on, and on.

i can't believe how time has passed since i started this blog-voyage, where it took me, and how much i've grown (or shrunk, depending on how you look at it).

not entirely sure how to "update" this archive. i've been blogging on myspace for a time, although i'm a bit censoring/political in my approach therein (one can cross-reference www.myspace.com/sizzlean).

no matter how ashamed i've felt when reflecting on some of the past posts in here, i won't delete them, at least not right now. they're not written in stone, just some sort of algorithm that the Big Machine has already digested anyway, whether they're deleted or not. one can't undo existence; emotions come and go like the Eight Winds. i try to meditate on the feeling of being a boulder in a field somewhere.

i've been in california for a few weeks shy of one year. i've made many new friends, and try to stay in touch with the old ones that matter. my mother can't really walk anymore. my relationship is definitely not champagne and roses, but is certainly not Mad Dog and poison ivy either. i'm a better artist, certainly having more of a body of work, but only making minimal money...but hey, it's $24 more than i made before.

some theme songs for my current...being: (i should make an album, ha)

"Both Sides Now" by Joni Mitchell
"Lunatic Fringe" by Tom Cochrane/Red Rider
"Long Long Way to Go" by Phil Collins
"You Know You're Right" by Nirvana
"In the Lost and Found" by Elliot Smith
"I Saw the Light" by Todd Rundgren
"Burden in My Hand" by Soundgarden
"Perfect Circle" by R.E.M.

to name a few, for now.

this feels better. this feels more like home, not trying to edit myself for a carnival of assholes. funny how i used to be so private. i still am, mostly. i still feel like i'm living in someone's experiment, or somebody's weird-ass B-movie screen play.

i'm still a bit wiggy from last night...i went to Faces, an ultra-hip gay bar. this place is basically Club MTV; absolutely pungent with sex, like a heady tropical vinegar. i kept expecting madonna to show up and then things would fall into place, as it would just be a living madonna video and everyone her back-up dancers. i have no libido these days though (probably a defense mechanism, i'm sure), so my hips wouldn't really move to the music, and the long island iced tea didn't quite touch my social anxiety. i had fun with nicole though. one thing-- the bathroom was truly scarey. i used to feel comfort in knowing that i didn't have to use the godforsaken mens' room, and that "ladies" were surely more civilized...ha! i will leave it at that.

*shrug*