it doesn't change my resolve, or my plans, but it makes me appreciate the moment. it makes everything in seattle feel loaded and poignant and bittersweet. I haven't lived here for the past 10 years for nothing, after all.
now I'm sitting in my wooden floored-lair, listening to van der graaf, my hands scented like the strawberries I just sliced, content as fuck with the world I've created. I keep saying that, it seems- likely because I'm still so flummoxed and grateful for my good fortune. I am so fucking APPRECIATIVE that I get to live the life my teenage self sulkily fantasized about. yeah, these were my dreams: autonomy, cool music, wood floors, an open window letting in the soft summer night. my dreams have always been frustratingly humble, really. maybe that's why I get so fucking pissed when the world doesn't unfurl like I wish; my wants are so attainable, what the fuck is WRONG with me and the world if things don't actually happen as I want them to?
I'm still mentally twelve years old, just with more anecdotes.
-lynnwood bowl & skate.
-jethro. he's going to a new home, fingers crossed, this Sunday.
-untouched sky, last week. I mean, my fucking Christ. what the fuck does a brain DO with that? except spiral inward?
-carefully framed to create something awesomer.
-the new specs. they are purposely ugly. "I feel like Groucho Marx!" I said to my parents before I took them in to get lenses (they're 99 cent frames from the thrift store). "no, you don't have a mustache" my mom replied.
it's really fucking cool to see things. I'm wearing them right now. in public? not really, not yet.
-near my lair. it was a driveway, then they added stairs. ha ha, fuck you, cars! it struck me as funny when I noticed it. perhaps you had to be there.
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