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“I find that I’ve been watching old movies, new movies - not just to distract me, but just to make sure that my heart is kind of working properly still.”
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I used to be in so much pain. It hurts to think how much I suffered for so many years.
For once I feel like I actually have a shot. And a big reason is because of you.
Thank you.
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BONEDOG
| by Eva H.D.
Coming home is terrible
whether the dogs lick your face or not;
whether you have a wife
or just a wife-shaped loneliness waiting for you.
Coming home is terribly lonely,
so that you think
of the oppressive barometric pressure
back where you have just come from
with fondness,
because everything’s worse
once you’re home.
You think of the vermin
clinging to the grass stalks,
long hours on the road,
roadside assistance and ice creams,
and the peculiar shapes of
certain clouds and silences
with longing because you did not want to return.
Coming home is
just awful.
And the home-style silences and clouds
contribute to nothing
but the general malaise.
Clouds, such as they are,
are in fact suspect,
and made from a different material
than those you left behind.
You yourself were cut
from a different cloudy cloth,
returned,
remaindered,
ill-met by moonlight,
unhappy to be back,
slack in all the wrong spots,
seamy suit of clothes
dishrag-ratty, worn.
You return home
moon-landed, foreign;
the Earth’s gravitational pull
an effort now redoubled,
dragging your shoelaces loose
and your shoulders
etching deeper the stanza
of worry on your forehead.
You return home deepened,
a parched well linked to tomorrow
by a frail strand of…
Anyway…
You sigh into the onslaught of identical days.
One might as well, at a time…
Well…
Anyway…
You’re back.
The sun goes up and down
like a tired whore,
the weather immobile
like a broken limb
while you just keep getting older.
Nothing moves but
the shifting tides of salt in your body.
Your vision blears.
You carry your weather with you,
the big blue whale,
a skeletal darkness.
You come back
with X-ray vision.
Your eyes have become a hunger.
You come home with your mutant gifts
to a house of bone.
Everything you see now,
all of it: bone.
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In another life, Summer is it. But if art and literature are any indications, my reality is Autumn.
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I sit outside a cafe, here on my laptop, sipping a can of Eureka Heights Buckle Bunny out of a pint glass, enjoying the slight breeze and nostalgic glow of this September day. Today feels like hope. I miss the semi-regular consistency of that feeling. Nowadays, while it still remains, it seems to stay buried in the background.
Life feels okay right now. I feel like I'm actually caught up, and because of that, I can breathe, take in the air and it's purity (or the closest thing you can get to that in Houston, TX).
I've had a lot of time off this past week. And I have more off this week. A simultaneously expected and unexpected vacation. Cabo fell through, but that's okay. I think I needed this more; this freedom to do with an extended amount of time as I wish.
Today I saw Barbie for the second time. I'm surprised it took me this long to do so, but a little motivation from a $5 reward and a lack of movies showing right now helped me thread the needle. The only thing left on my current "in-theaters" list is Bottoms. Then it's The Creator in the next week or so.
(I still can't decide if I want to watch that in Dolby Digital Cinema or IMAX at the renovated IMAX theater inside Edwards Marq'e. While the aspect ratio is 2.7 and makes more sense for me to go Dolby, that giant IMAX screen at Edwards sounds enticing, despite it seeming dim when I snuck into A Haunting in Venice.)
I lost my train of thought due to researching movie theaters. I'm okay with it though cause I haven't felt this much passion for movies since... well, I really don't know. It might be as far back as high school. I want to not only watch everything again, but I'm dying to learn.
I recently interviewed for a higher position at my job. They passed me on to the second and last part of the interview process. Not to sound full of shit, but if I can manage to do solid on this last interview, I'm pretty sure I got it. It's still part-time, but I'm hoping I'll get paid enough to where I can work slightly less hours and still have enough to get by. If that's the case, that means more time, and boy do I fucking need that right now.
Cause lately I've just been... tired. Even aside from work. I always feel like I'm catching up on something. Another task on the to-do list.
That's forever, I know. But I don't think people understand how taxing it feels when your job isn't your primary focus, yet it requires primary focus. My ambitions still lie in film, and in order to make that a reality, it requires my focus. But it's hard to lay my focus there when money and life require even more attention. It's hard, and it sucks, and not a lot of people understand. Especially my family. I feel them (whether it be internal or external) judging and belittling me sometimes. They don't have bad intentions. They just don't understand. But that's a lot of modern society, so that's understandable.
I wanted to talk about my girlfriend, and how much I love her, and how much she means to me, and how I picture myself being with her, living with her, marrying her, having a family with her, how she gives me hope again... but I'm getting sleepy from the gyro sandwich, greek fries, and two beers, so that will have to wait for another day.
Alright. Toodeloo. Cheerio. Adios muthafugga.
...
P.S. I remember what I wanted to talk about earlier: Barbie.
That move is absolutely beautiful, and one of the most creative reimaginings I've seen. You know a movie is absolutely fantastic when there's an overabundance of details to marvel at, but you can't even take the time necessary to really appreciate them because they're attached to a bigger picture in itself.
Barbie reminded me of life. My life and how I want to live it. I forgot what it's like to live. I've taken time for granted throughout my youth and I still have as little as earlier this year. That's okay because the graceful moments still exist regardless. But I want to be more intentional again with how my life feels. Not where I'm at physically or career-wise. I just want to take control of how my life feels. Those calms within the storm that seem more rare nowadays... I want them back; and I'll get them back. They're possible. It's just a matter of balance. And control. And things being settled.
I think I'm setting myself up for a nice Fall, and that's all I want - is a nice Fall.
Like Autumn in New York.
...yeah.
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Once again getting that feeling of wanting to run away.
It started as this idealization of myself - alone - starting over. Knowing no one and being no one. Just drifting along like a shadow on the hot cement.
Now, I'm warming up to the idea of running away with you. Just us disappearing, living the life we talk and dream about… but together.
…
That's two shadows drifting along the hot cement.
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What keeps your sanity? What are your necessities on a day-to-day basis?
A well planned out day keeps my sanity in check. My necessities on a day-to-day will of course be my chapstick, my shoes, my selvedge denim, my Steve Lacy, and my ego.
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You all just come back around to poke me with a stick and go. Why?
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"I once knew the place so well, but every day it grows more unknowable and unlimited, and I feel more like a resident than like a citizen. But it remains a part of my psyche. It’s home."
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I Killed Captain Cook
Unknown Mortal Orchestra
Honeymoon
Mac Demarco
Call It Fate, Call It Karma
The Strokes
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