Now Listening to:
- Coldplay “Yellow”
- The Cure “The Last Day of Summer”
- The Cure “The Loudest Sound”
- The Cure “Pictures of You”
- The Cure “Trust”
- Nacha Pop “Luchas de Gigantes”
So maybe it was yesterday. I can never get the autumnal equinox right, and I probably don’t really want to, given that I have sad, depressing memories of past ones.
I also half-expected L.A. to explode today, what with the persistent rumors of a terrorist attack on September 22, but everyone wants to believe that the world is ending. In a way, it’s an escape. If it were really all ending, then we wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of the past days.
But as they say. Life goes on.
My mind is really everywhere at once right now. Like Zaphod Beeblebrox from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, I feel like a part of my brain is locked away from the other parts. Maybe it’s my grief, psychologically sequestered. Or maybe I’ve just been drinking too much caffeine and aspartame and I’ve damaged too many neurons.
I’ve found that it is extraordinarily relaxing to just lie flat on my back, listening to music I really like. The blood doesn’t have to fight gravity to get to your brain. I know it should be like this when I’m sleeping too, but I guess I have a crappy bed. It’s a total attitude adjustment.
Times like this, I worry about my brother and my sister. They’re actually hanging out this weekend in San Diego. I do fear that they might kill each other. Half-jokingly, of course. Frighteningly, we say it to each other all the time, when one is doing something incredibly annoying to the other. “I’ll kill you!” Outsiders always seem to take it for a sign of affection. Which, while disturbing, is probably true. Even when I seriously want to wring one of their necks, even when I am sincerely angry and hurt, the depth of our bonds always makes my heart ache. Obviously, being born of the same woman and all, we really didn’t have a say in the matter, but, hell, we’ve been through a lot of shit together. It’s amazing.
There is also the fact that I am an incredibly superstitious man. For once, nothing personally debilitating is weighing heavy on my mind. (Knock on wood!!!) Sure, there is the shadow of the last few days, and I have been suffering depression because of it, but it doesn’t make it difficult to breathe like a direct thrust to my heart would. Not like some past autumnal equinoxes (equinoctes?) I know it’s all trivial against the backdrop of incredible tragedy, but these little things are what etches into your heart. These big things kind of wash over like a powerful wave that just throws you onto the rocky shore, and if you survive, you’re just bewildered. Your mind can’t even wrap itself around it. It’s just too big.
But the little things, you can ponder them whenever your mind wanders, in excruciating detail, all the little things that you might have done wrong, every single word that was errant, misspoken.
Oh I meant to tell you, somehow, I meant to tell you that I loved you, in my own fashion. Even though I didn’t know how to show it. For whatever it might be worth. Even if it doesn’t mean anything to you. But whatever. I’m just speaking to ghosts in my head. What’s really killing me is that I keep making the same mistakes.