Saturday, December 3, 2011

My friend wants to drag me to a dum circle tonight...I mean...a drum circle. This particular drum circle is the scene of a particular crime, though, and I'm nervous about going there. (I am curious about whether them shoes are still hangin there though, maaan.) I do and I don't want to see HER there. Her friend has been texting me, Happy Thanksgiving...How you been doing...Hey, I been texting you...You still at this number? They tell each other EVERYTHING. Talking to the friend means talking to her. Maybe this is immature, a little bit 'I'm Not Okay/You're Okay.' I should respond to messages and accept hug offers and smile at all times, I guess. Or, I could go spraypaint something...leave a wacky note...and then sit there and be aware of it -and of all things, stand there seeing...take a bouncy ball out of my pocket and bounce it...take some golf clubs and a bucket of balls to an old grave yard and just start strokin em-- the balls bouncing around between memorials all crazy, like life-size pinball -- not out of disrespect, maaan, I have kin in there too (brother, mother, dad) - it's a temporary alteration of a false sad place (They ain't there. That ain't Them), a celebration at the world's saddest kind of place, and the only way I'd ever be able to drag myself back there. I hate graveyards. When I go to them, I am an emotional wreck for weeks. (I would never hit golfballs into a graveyard, I'm just kidding. Most people see graveyards as sacred, and I'd never act up in grave yard. Out of respect to people who already have enough grief. Everybody handles grieving in their own way, and the last thing a dummy like me should do is make suggestions. The best thing I can do when advice seems to be called for is to offer no advice. I don't know. I got mixed feelings on this. The best thing to do with mixed feelings is use them as ink.) Anyway...this Lady...whose shoes, I believe, are still hanging from a powerline in front of a bar...and her friend, and all those friends from that scene...maybe this is why I am so alone...because I take this attitude with people. I've given them lots and lots of...leeway though, lots of listening, lots of too! They stole from me! Ha. Hippies. Well: this century's version of hippies anyway.

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