My favorite conversations are the ones I have with strangers.
My flings with society so to speak.
They never quite last as long as I hope they will but I manage to share my true thoughts, feelings, aspirations, life and world in the blink of an eye.
I appreciate these people pretending to care about me and how my day is going.
They are my shrinks, my therapists, my inspiration, my best friends.
I love my ten minute friendships.
At times they seem more honest and genuine than the relationships my friends and I pretend to carry.
They take me at face value.
They believe anything I say.
They laugh at my jokes.
They give me the power to be the person I want to be at that moment.
Wether myself or my alter ego.
Even the most insignificant of conversations leave an imprint on my soul and my mind.
And when I'm laying by my lonesome in bed, I long for my ten minute friends.
At my home which is the bus stop. I Take a break from standing and cop-a-squat on the grassy hill. I lean back, peeking through the tops of the trees as the sky turns a darker shade of blue. On a branch I see one lonesome brown leaf. It's clinging for life, the way I'm straining to cling to alertness. I am exhausted. This reminds me of my childhood. I have been tired since I can remember. I could and can fall asleep anywhere. Literally. I can remember falling asleep in the most outlandish places. In the bushes that grew in the side yard. Under the car, and back patio. I would even take a break from jumping on the trampoline to have a snooze. I've just now realized that since the beginning of time, that is my life; Everywhere but my bed has been the most comfortable and easiest for me to fall asleep. Sleeping I've always said has been one of my favorite hobbies. Which is so contradictory to the way I live and feel about life. I want to live life to the fullest and have as many experiences as I can. But most of the time I'm willing to sleep it away. The more and more I think about this as I write it down, the more it bothers me. You finish working on one thing to fix about yourself and another pops up. A woman's work is never done!
Its funny how a great thing can bring feelings and sensations usually linked with bad things. For example, being in love. For me personally it can sometimes make me nauseated. When i really sit down, analyze and think about how i feel about Vivian. It makes me want to yak. It doesn't bother me and its definitely not a bad thing. I feel emotions physically. In all situations, but i enjoy it. It makes me feel alive. Reminds me that I am a walking, talking, breathing, thinking human being. It makes everything that much more of an experience. Even if its bad. Its being able to find the beauty and lesson in everything. I also get scared at times. Because this whole thing is just so deep. This is also not a bad thing. Its not the "what am i doing" scared. Its "Holy shit this is REAL" scared. I enjoy being scared. Being scared means comfort every time. At least this is my observation. I mean think about the process. You get scared. You express that fear to someone. And then that someone either physically, or verbally comforts you. Sometimes both. I mean shit, that makes me want to be scared at least once a day. Thats guaranteed comfort and love in a way. Other circumstances aren't so guaranteed. I really do welcome being scared. I don't want to skip out on all the negative things in life. I want the whole experience. If only more people stepped outside of their foggy existence and examined life from different angles, I think we'd all see more smiling faces and would hear more "How do you do's".
Mon. August 31, 2009
I'm at the bus stop. I have to go the bathroom. I go in and sit down and there is a girl in the stall next to me on the phone. Which I found weird until i realized I'm writing while sitting on the toilet. She didn't wash her hands.
Wed. September 2, 2009
Sitting on a rock at the bus stop, waiting for a call. I light up a cigarette, and a man in overalls also smoking; farts. I imagine his puff of stench drifting up to his smoke (or mine) and bursting into flames and burning either of us to a cinder. I think back and remember I was quite concerned for him. Did he make a spot on his pants? I felt the responsibility to be embarrassed for him.
Fri. September 4, 2009
On the phone with Viv. He was trying to teach me how to say Twat "correctly". So where I am sitting on the bus saying Twat over and over. Then I add in a few cunts, not realizing there are kids sitting in front of me. As much as I like to be a positive influence sometimes its nice to be lude in public.
Fri. September 4, 2009
Heres a guilty pleasure of mine. I enjoy when my leg from the knee up goes tingly. Because almost every time, my cash and prizes goes tingly too. Its quite the sensation. It feels good in a weird way. All I have to do is slightly move; and it gives you just the right amount of pleasure to be enjoyed in public. If only my fellow commuters knew why I was smiling.
