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30 june 2000
sea sings sensual A little over three weeks ago, the night before I had my four wisdom teeth extracted, IceDog presented me with a joint after band practice. He had some weird idea that I should get stoned before the surgery and that would make it all better. The little bone's been sitting in my desk drawer ever since. Tonight, in a fit of "i dunno what da fuck to do wid meself," I pulled it out, stepped out onto the balcony, and smoked it until I burnt my fingers. To say I'm feeling a bit strange now would be an understatement. Life is getting me down ... it's just one of those weeks, I guess. Or maybe it's a denouement of Detroit, where I seemed to have just a little bit too much fun. Nonetheless I'm sitting at home alone on a friday night feeling sorry for myself. It's an activity I like to indulge in from time to time. Perhaps it makes me feel special, since all the "normal" people are out having a good time with their friends and loved ones, coming home to or with "that special someone" and sinking into each other beneath a blue sky of unabashed ecstasy. Is that normal? Why do I sometimes feel as if I'm the only one in the world who's lonely? Still on the balcony, listening to the ocean, interrupted by the occasional passing car on Pacific Coast Highway. The surf is making love to the sand so rhythmic, panting, the sounds, or perhaps my one-track mind is humanizing a so-common seaside occurance into something my soul craves. The strange thing is that I'm not even horny. I tried to busy myself tonight. Marinating ribs for a bbq tomorrow, working on a new song idea that came to me on a couch in Detroit six days ago, flipping through the 600 channels screen-beamed from some satellite I can't see through the tumbling fog. The sky looks orange tonight, the fog is low, reflecting the lights of our little beachside haven. I can see all the celebrities' houses from here. I wonder if they're happy. I'm happy. I'm happy with my life, my job, my apartment, the band... I'm even happy lying alone on a lounge chair listening to the ocean on a foggy friday night. But I don't like being lonely. Does anyone? Rhetorical question, that was, but feel free to answer it if you'd like. Life can be so cold and unforgiving ... and I feel it in my bones sometimes. Had I went out and surrounded myself with other people tonight, I wouldn't be in this mood. When I eventually made it home I'd be too tired to contemplate the fact that I was entering an empty apartment, so devoid of humanity, so devoid of even me. I'd love to just sit and ponder my existence righ t now, but I can't seem to find a single thing to ponder. I used to be able to amuse myself by watching the traffic light change. Moving out of my small suburban hometown put an end to that. Should I really be sitting home on a friday night? Isn't there some kind of life I should be out there living? Am I not living by just sitting here? Or do I need an external something, or someone, to validate myself? If so, am I completely pathetic? A question that always worries me when I ask it of myself: What if I was the only person in the universe, the sole living human in existence? Would I have anything to live for? Do I have the ability to live for myself? I can't answer that. Can you? Rhetorical question, that was, but feel free to answer it if you'd like. ~~~ In the forum:How much inconvenience is justified by "cheap" airfare? 30 june 1999: : didn't write 30 june 1998: antipathetic : I forget to take out the garbage, and my Catholic mom would come up to my room and says "You forgot to take out the garbage. What would God say about that? Take out the garbage or you're gonna go straight to hell!"
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