Something uplifting.

There is: change.
(What else could take so damn fucking long?)

This is what happens when a person can’t drop everything, pack their cat into a carrier and hop on a plane and lose the stigma of “growing up” and settling into their bones. This is also what happens when one’s innards are angry that one is young and rotting.

I don’t like politics. I don’t like playing games where real humans are the chess pieces. I also don’t like criticizing politicians because they don’t exist for me. Politics wastes my time because no one says anything riveting or inspirational. We are caught in horrid democracy negotiating boundaries like trenches in WWI. Inches…merely inches.
So I’m not challenged by theory.
I’m not challenged by philosophy although last week I got very drunk and cried that my “theory” of a post-death Utopian existence wasn’t real – that I’d merely be reingested through decomposition and my dreams of dancing with Fred Astair would never come true. So I don’t dig the philosophy too much these days. (I cried about that sober too)

So then, am I only good to discuss books that I don’t have enough time to read? I couldn’t do what I wanted, but things also couldn’t stay the same. Unhappiness rots. I can’t say it enough and it’s not yet the moment for “time out”. (I like them, but it’s not the right time). And sometimes you have to fight for what you want. And what that means right now is battling the STUPID slow time machine, and creating an acceptable level of patience within.

So in tune with turning a year older, I decided to apply for a new job (which I got), I finished one crap ass school term in time to begin a better one, and I moved. So that I can paint my own house, be my own person, and be influenced as much by my own choice as possible. Being influenced by another person’s choice, whether you live with them or not makes you feel less like a human as the day goes by. And soon you are open to the suggestion of Everyman. So into the quiet I go where I can sit and listen because I’m not very good at listening – to myself most of all. (I was also not ready to listen because I wasn’t being told the things I needed to hear….. so I guess that means I’m decisively selective)

The couple who lives above me – the red headed male is in a band. Dangerous living memoir I know, but I don’t live in hate with my past and he knows the postal code. I also have inkling he helped me with my garbage pail. His girlfriend is also cute and I’ve not yet had time to say hello. The couple who lives in the house next door has a chocolate lab. They were having a gathering one night in our mutual back yard and invited me for a “beer and eats” and had I not been utterly exhausted I am sure I would have made new interesting friends. They said “next time for sure”.

Bring on the warm summer days. Bring on the “sparkler” coloured paint because my kitchen is already Robin Egg blue with stained red kitchen chairs. Bring on peace, bring on challenge, bring on books, books, books, bring on an airplane destined for somewhere because I earned it dammit. And bring on the movie man. We’ll have a dance off!

And most of all, bring on my violin. I miss it terribly.