baggage's Diaryland
Diary
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Quiet Thanksgiving Friday
So, hey-it's the day after Thanksgiving and I'm not due back at work until Tuesday.
Well, whoo-haa the fuck yeah. I'm going to run around the block and get high.
Then, and only then, will I lay on the front lawn like a turd from some wandering feline and cast my eyes at the cloudy southern california sky.
Hello clouds. You all look absolutely ravishing today.
Minus the fact that I'm currently sober beyond sober, I'm feeling generally giddy. Thanksgiving was fine-
despite her mom's use of the word nigger. It's just an old "Texan Saying" she says. Yeah-well, Texas is a red state last time i checked. I imagine there are a lot of old texan sayings that would make my brown skin crawl.
But, let's get away from that. This is, after all, my baggage I'm unloading here so there.
Girl-Unit is at work-leaving me with all sorts of time to listen to myself ruminate over pending misconclusions and future mistakes.
It is my assumption, or rather, theory, that we all know what our mistakes will be before we commit to them. That, my friends, is conscience tapping on the shoulder.
"Uhh, excuse me Mr. Baggage. But, I do believe that you'd better leave now before your hormones are overwhelmed by her flirtatious gaze."
I trust you know of what I refer.
By the grace of some gracious god, I have, thus far, followed Sir Conscience anywhere he leads.
He only goes to the best places in my soul after all. ------------------ Have I mentioned? I have 11 new songs written. And, boy, wait till everyone hears them! Oh. What? No one knows who the fuck I am? Well, that's a bummer. Guess, I'll just have to write these songs for myself. Imagine that.
Being creative for yourself.
Like my brain, the songs meander. Here and there. To and fro. They're like children set loose on a playground-bundles of undirected energy bouncing off of the air. What a kick it is to spend so much time on something whose very creation is its own reward. ____________ I am running this morning. As soon as Mi Compadre gets up off of his sofa next door, I shall take to the streets and run, run, run this belly full of pie, cranberries and gravy away-pounding the fat into muscle-my breaths stretching and cleaning out the lungs of various waste and secondhand garbage.
Clears the mind too. Running that is. And, as far as I can tell, there's way more garbage in my mind than there is elsewhere in my body. ____________ My cat is currently halfway out the window. His ass is inside, his head is outside. What the hell is that? He is the King of Indecision. ---------------------- There's a little green spot on the table today.
That's my soul down there.
It's the same old thing as yesterday.
That's my soul down there. _____________ Shit howdy, the new U2 album is unbelievably sexy. Tonight, I shall ravish Girl Unit to the strains of Love, Peace or Else. It's the proper soundtrack I do believe.
My Attainable Goal for 2005 is to see U2 play "Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own" with a good friend; hold hands while Bono sings: "We fight all the time
You and I...that's alright
We're the same soul
I don't need...I don't need to hear you say
That if we weren't so alike
You'd like me a whole lot more" In 2005, I will celebrate the kind of friendship that lifts life up like a kite.
Yup-like a kite. _____________ The King of Indecision just flew by me like a bird. Something unseen must have made his mind up for him. I wonder what he sees?
8:08 a.m. - 2004-11-26
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