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Musing on the Click before/after
Hello. So nice to see you. Would you please come in?
Wait by the bar? Have a seat in the lounge?
Thank you so much, the shows about to begin.
I would classify this threeday weekend as a waste, and a lame fuckaround from start to finish, were it not for last night.
Last night, everything clicked, and I started taking everything in stride again. It happened somewhere in between veiwning the last half of the movie Magnolia, and getting stoned with my brother and piecing together a bizzarre cover tune.
If you haven't seen Magnolia, I recommend it. I am by no means a Tom Cruise fan, and, thankfully, the movie was not driven by his peice.What truly resonated with me, was, as Jason Robards lay in bed dying,- a wealthy flanderer and no one wants his money, has a wonderful monolouge about Regret.
His point being that we will encounter regret, and the line that totally started me on the track to well-being was this..."Regret, regret, regret...use it however you CAN."
Powerful stuff, if you think about it.
And, as monolouges go, it was well delivered. I am extremely critical of acting, cinema and stage, due to my exposure to the drama department in college. I am not an expert, but I can separate shit from shinola, as it were, and I absorbed everything I could from my instructors like a sponge, and that monolouge kicks ass, in a good movie that, all-n-all, is a tad depressing.
(except for the climax, which appears to be a rain of frogs. Fuck, that made me laugh, and then wish it would rain frogs here. On a similar note, I also rooted for Y2K problems, and secretly hoped for catastrophe on a global scale. You make think less of me, but the reality of the situation is I felt pretty good of my odds in an anarchic freeforall. Darwinisim is a bitch, as they say, and sans cops, electricity, or any other overriding imperative besides survival, I think I would be a king-hell bastard to deal with. I would organize mobs and ride out, it would be beautiful, and we had decent breeding stocks in the mountain bungalow where I was at for the next generation of the tribe. )
And then I got stoned wif my bro, yo. We sampled the phone call from Don from jail, which is saved on the voicemail, and is a laugh riot.(Uh, hello? I'm in jail...for marijuana possesion...I don't know how I got here...let the dog out), then, in the coup-de-gras of highness (my idea, thank you) we tacked it to the front of a swanky cover tune-we used the music to Jail House Rock, by Elvis, to the words of Folsom Prison Blues by Johhny Cash, in a funky, swanky sort of way. Sort of an incarceration theme.
And I went home, and on the way, it occurred to me, after watching Magnolia, and seeing everyone sweating it out in their own little nook of the world, caught up in their own scenarios and exchanges, struggles and recriminations, squabbles and pettiness, that the key was to simply Rise Above It, and love people for who they are. Let the petty things go.
Which is my perogative, and I had strayed from it, leaving me feeling off kilter.
And now? I'm the man again, of course.
Don't know if anyone noticed me being a little off-center, but hey, I did. Now I feel better. Time to do drugs and look for a fight.
Just kidding...about the fight thing, anyway.
And now my karma is flowing. Despite numerous worries and other blathering nonesense, I feel fine. All else is triviality. I have an unshakeable sense that regardless, Everything Will Be Okay.
I have a pocket full of sugar-cube LSD. And marijuana on the way. This weekend will be FEINDISH.
I need to find a girl that likes to smoke pot and drop acid, and isn't worried about at what swanky restaurant we'll go to next. Fuck all that. I can do that, seeing as the past few girls to tumble through my life were all drug free, and into the conventional type of thing, but really, I'll just sit and plan my next acid trip, or think about when I can smoke pot again, anyway. (Okay, I'll fuck her, cuddle for a little while,...blah blah blah...and then get stoned in the car on the way home. Yipee!)
Not that drugs n' such is what i think about 24-7, or even a fraction of the time, when alone or with company, but chicks who don't do drugs seem to be boring with no sense of adventure. (Junkies don't count. They are a drag any way you cut it...no pun intended). Its all relative. Perhaps the conversation could be more stimulating, requiring more of my focus than repeating the last thing said in the form of a question (So your cat left you...really?). I can do that stoned to the gills, and it most likely occurs to me, well, why not get stoned? My brain is in neutral, and if I kick it into gear, she will most likely get The Fear.
I also thought about my last entry. The reason I told you is that you are my confidant, and really, I can't tell anyone something like that. For a number of reasons: 1. Its Against The Rules. If it gets around that you are talking like that about a girl, you can cut your odds of getting another girl in that pool in half, at least, if not more. Exception: if you really put it out there, and talk it up, you will attract the One Crazy Chick Who WANTS A Reputation. Then you are screwed, 'cause after that, women you know will treat you like a leper. 2. It's not like me to talk about something like that, even in shady references, about stuff like that, and never with names or in any identifiable way. I slip once in a blue moon, about a girl years past, but otherwise, Don't Worry About Who I Sleep With. Its my business, and mine alone. Mention that stuff to anyone, and it gets around. See reason #1. 3. Its just not right.
Also there was no real romance to that entry, which I despise, but it is honest. There is no romance, because there was no romance. And that sucks. I live for romance, I am a Romantic by nature. This lack of romance theme leaves me feeling lonely, hence my search for the Right Girl for a six month (or longer) torrid fling. The sad part being, I've compromised my standards to the point where I am not hopeful for anything more satisfying. I'm willing to give more, and there are takers, but I want someone who is willing to give also. More and more, girls seem to want to possess me for their own ends, not due to anything genuine or idealistic.
I've come to the conclusion that most women are crazy, if not all, the key being in finding someone who is crazy in a way you like. Separate staker crazy from not-wearing-matching-socks-crazy, and Roll .
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