|and thus within me god is born, and i release the god in man
||[Nov. 18th, 2004|10:48 pm]
|||||moanin/ art blakey||]|
sometimes denying one's values is the best and fastest way to find one's affirmations again. i often feel this way about drinking and smoking. right when i realize that i haven't had a lot to drink in a long time, and i act on the urge, i find myself realizing why exactly i ought not to drink and smoke a lot. one reason was finding myself in a a prikura booth with 4 18 year old girls at 11:30 p.m. on a weekday in chofu (an hour plus from my house) taking stupid pictures. another was the headache and poor lung condition that i awoke with this morning. but it was that pain and discomfort that helped me realize my divinity and make a move to actualize it. i think it is very healthy to break out of our "beliefs piles" every once and a while.
dan hackbarth in japan in three days. that is all i have to say on that. exciting? what is synonymous with exciting times one million?
i saw a giant on the train two mornings ago. it was awesome. he was right in front of me, and my eye level was at his lower back! it was so cool. i'm sure he has it rough, but he is a FUCKING GIANT! that is as rad as a ninja playing a guitar any day. a fucking giant on the tokyo subway. fuck.
it's raining again. i knew it before i opened my eyes, even before i woke up. cold, autumn rain washes everything away. it feels almost pious, the perfect incarnation of penitence--harsh and punishing, with an equal part of forgiveness and patience. as i listened to the noise and gradually drifted in to waking life, i tried to hold onto my dreams, but was let with only a vague remnant of the adrenaline from a chase, and faceless names from a faraway town and a farther away past. it's not coming, i realized, and stopped fighting. maybe later in the day something will trigger it. i really gotta start writing my dreams down.
i tried to open my eyes, but felt them crusted shut. shit, i left my contacts in again. i gotta take them out before i go to bed. come to think of it, i can't remember what i did before going to bed. i swallowed the warm sleep saliva in my mouth, and soon realized from the taste that i didn't brush my teeth before sleeping either. eyes, open. light--pain in the back of my head, and a deep breath.
exhale--alright, i can see my breath, meaning that chances of me getting out from under this blanket are close to nil. i reach out for the water bottle sitting on the shelf beside my bed, sit part way up, and take a deep, long swig. the water fills me like breath, like a connection to the cold world outside the window's glass pain. i lay back down and feel the weight of my bladder. fuck. gotta stand up.
i brave the cold air around my bed only because i know i can get back under those warm sheets as soon as i piss. a sleepy, hungover stumble to the bathroom and a deep yellow minute long stream later, i am back in my warm world, melted into my mattress, in perfect balance with the withering world around me.
no one's talking about the sheets in front of us, but my group is babbling about god-knows-what with each other, maybe talking shit about jackson's drunk old man. david sits with that goofy grin in the corner of the room, holding his pen in his mouth like a cigarette and staring into nowhere. i doubt he has ever even smoked a cigarette. i hate that shit, how--
"what's up sean," i greet the tall, lanky, nappy-haired kid who came over to our group.
"nuthin', dude. y'all some weak-ass mothafuckas over here," sean tilts his head mockingly and squints down at me. he nods his head up quickly, pointing with his chin to the faucet of the lab sink at our group.
we had been unscrewing that nozzle for weeks, sending out a burst of water from the space created at the base of the faucet, where it connects up to the unseen pipe within the lab desk. it gave us all a good laugh whenever someone got sprayed with the chilled tap water. even david would come back to this world for a minute to smile derisively at the poor bastard whose shit was soaked.
"dude over here needs to stop suckin' on his pen like a fuckin' dick. get up, boy. fuckin' twist that shit, ah'ight," sean's eyes drilled david.
"alright, man. no problem." david got up and walked over to the faucet, followed by cheers from the group. he grabbed the faucet under the curve, where it faced back down into the basin of the sink, and gave it a tug. water shot out from the base of it, forcing sudden jerks away from the sink from everyone nearby, some people even grabbed their bags and books and jumped up away from the immediate vicinity.
"nah, man. that's weak," sean scoffed disapprovingly.
"'right, you try then. step up, big man," david challenged.
"'right. get out the way." sean stepped up beside the sink, and got a firm grip on the mouth of the faucet. he pulled it quickly toward himself, sending a burst of water up from the base, but pushed the faucet back into place immediately.
"nah, that shit is weak, sean. you can't be comin' over talkin' shit if you're just gonna do the same shit as everyone did before," i quickly barked, egging sean on. by now there were about ten people making up the audience. the atmosphere was electric. the teacher, mrs. kiston was on the other side of the room, helping chris spacek make his paper sheet with a hole in it to watch the eclipse. i glanced over, and from the look of it, chris had found a way to complicate beyond comprehension what is perhaps the most simple scientific tool there is. he was surrounded by 5 crumpled up balls of paper, presumably previous failures, a stapler, a roll of tape, scissors, about 20 sewing needles, and for some reason had pulled out the bunsen burner. this was where spacek stepped in and asked him what in the name of all things holy he thought he was doing. this was where sean walked up to our group.
the sky was already getting dark.
sean looked around at the hopeful eyes before him. he must've sensed the energy of anticipation. hell, we had no idea what would happen if anyone twisted the faucet past 90 degrees counter-clockwise. we were all sitting there waiting to see the new frontier, awaiting the new record to be made.
the last thing i remember before before sean pulled that bent metal pipe toward his body was the voice of mrs. spacek, which traveled through a sound tunnel to my ears. "the eclipse is NOW, chris. it only happens once every umpteen years, and you're going to RUIN it!" all other sound faded away, and i watched the tip of sean's tongue barely stick out of his mouth, as if he knew the weight of what was to come. it was almost already regretting the action that he pulled toward him, and it was certainly regret that immediately filled mrs.spacek as the reverberations of her yell made their way back to her ears.