I’m losing track of the days because I wish that I had more. I was driving back from Malibu with Haley and Cyb and Frank’s voice said “summers not as long as it used to be… everyday counts like crazy” and I just sighed looking into a dark velvet blackness dappled with chlorine lights. Thinking about how time is melting away like butter on black asphalt. It’s sometime halfway through summer next week, bank balance is still way negative. Every time I get a charge through the shop it deducts a few cents commission for the hosting site: ie I get hit with another fucking overdraft fee. Next week I’m entering into my first legitimate deal of my adult life time: acquiring a large sum of money under the guise that it will further my business and in turn make the people who are giving me the money even more money.
Savannah says make the corn with just salt and pepper but I put on the spices and blacken them on the grill by accident. For some time is like water and for others it is like numbers. If I start counting I can feel the numbers, like if I notice that I am a being that has to breathe then I will start to count the breaths.
the carpet is clean and squishy, this house is new with six boys in it and empty space between pieces of furniture. she makes images and i describe things: our worlds are completely different but together we have one world that feels multidimensional… i told someone today that life didn’t start until I started life with her: this life didn’t start, I added more senses to my self, I added more words to my vocabulary, I had to grow a few more eyes to see it all and a few more limbs to hold it all, I morphed from my metaphase Whatever life I lived before her was really quite nothing.
Imagine this: my friend with red hair and a ski slope nose is my first crush in third grade then grows to be a stoner who carries around a book about steve jobs and rereads it over and over and over who then starts making music in the middle of the night and I start singing over his beats and becomes an accountant who then becomes a power washer for twelve hours a day on demand for pretty good pay gets a master bedroom in a mansion in vegas with a carpeted bathroom with a chandelier and a huge walk in closet filled with only college t-shirts lets me take the master bedroom while I am here and sleeps on the couch instead. It’s really odd huh? I wonder what people’s imaginary me is. You know, the imaginary me that they talk about when I’m not there, what she always does that actual me did one time, what she’s always like that actual me has no control over, how that is a whole seperate character and someone can like the idea of it but never really like you. Or vice versa- that one is harder to know because your mind gets in the way. I thought I could love everyone until someone I loved ******** ** ** ** *****.
this is how it keeps going: don’t worry it gets better. The best art to create is life: characters should be preferably dressed silly, music always needs to be playing unless it’s a very dramatic or lonesome scene. Food if involved has to be either very beautiful or very very tacky, please no in-between. Car windows should be down, lights should be colored or down, subjects should be dynamic and thought provoking. activities, have them do activities. how about poker, we are in vegas after all! we sit around and play poker, three of five of us don’t know how to play. I think my luck is better than it is. I know the odds in my head from competing in math counts in middle school, but something always tells me that my karma bank is good and shit will go my way. it does or maybe I just like to notice when it does. hard to say.
I’m getting off topic by going too into my mind: you want facts! You want setting! You want scene! You want the hot gossip about what went down with me and my high school bffs in sin city las vegas nevada. We played poker, the boys went to work, savannah picks us up in her new car, we drive to coffee cup in boulder city. driving is the best when you don’t have to drive. it’s a music filled moving living room. we see the desert blow by and arrive at the cutest breakfast spot in boulder city, get a vegan special. the back tiki booth is covered in one dollar bills and the people are covered in spray tans. it always confuses me that sunny places sell the most tanning products: vegas, australia, california… We eat breakfast, me and cyb always share a plate because we can eat out more for half the cost. eating out is really all about the ambience to be honest,I way prefer shitty restaurants. They have a really good charm about them, the memorabilia nailed into the wall, cigarettes on waiter’s breaths, food that comes in big portions with simple sauces. You can laugh loudly and wear a hoodie. Kick your friends under the table, spill ketchup. I always spill shit. I don’t think I did at this breakfast though. We move on: to a treasure hunt at a vintage store. Elvis is playing in a far corner, anyone surprised? if you are please google “las vegas nevada elvis”. Kinda odd to have a city just themed after itself. who else does that? tbh? if it’s not what people expected than you failed, so the best thing is to not have anyone expect anything but then that means they have to be openminded and chances are that they aren’t.
so vegas is vegas.
by the way, no one gets out.
hardly ever at least.
somehow i got out and have come back again.
back again to the story.
we go hiking at a spot we used to go to, you know how you say you always did things growing up but you maybe really did them 6 times but they were six really good times so it feels like infinity times of good feeling that happened in a space over awhile therefore it’s a sweeping memory? that’s what this is. we hike to a really beautiful look out spot, going up out of elevation and into a mountain that almost feels… humid? and is that a patch of snow wayyyyyyy up there? on the drive back the scenery melts away, green fading and hills flattening out, rocks to sand, back to a desert. the desert is really really beautiful, i notice for maybe the first time ever.
that night we make tacos, vegan tacos for everyone. we wayyy over do the amount of food we need because abundance is a thing here, i pushed four corn on the cobs just into the trash, i have anxiety about letting food go to waste, have to eat it all. or im wasting.. what ? resources, money? resources mainly. resources can be money or money can be resources. anyway. we make too much food, we laugh, i feel so out of place. maybe i should really take more phone pics, im starting to and its making me happy, im still trying to balance everything but it feels like its making more sense these days: do everything you do without distractions. do it intentionally and mindfully and don’t be thinking about what you will do next, then everything gets done with due time.
i wake up and again house is empty except for Salt, i drink coffee and feel the silence of a big empty house that is usually filled with boys lifting weights or doing or drinking. the frat continues i guess. i think im gonna just come out and say it: its really normal to fall out with people in your life, i don’t know why we frown upon it so much. as long as you are changing your scenery around you should be too, and as long as you are changing you are learning. that’s how I see it at least. same is stagnation of the mind.
dark red things are interesting me right now, cherry cut open so u can see the pit, bite them sideways every time for that simple pleasure. eating for me is a way of dissection and stay really, im talking about for fruits and vegetables of course, to see the veins and cells and the way it grew and took water in to create itself. mushrooms are okay they mostly weird me out like ..
i keep banking n the fact that things will be better next week and thats been going on for a year but also nothing has gone to shit yet, so…