The Undriven Customers

I am a moody blues. I have an ambition to do useful and precipitous things, but then I am bored and I get lazy, and I feel pathetic, and I take one in the gut from pathos, and he goes out to kill lions, and I take a pathetic nap in a pathetic bed in a pathetic town, and wrestle my pathet fits.

I tried to go for a drive and take photographs this evening, but I can't convince myself to pull the vehicle over and actually stop and take a breath and walk around a bit and snap from a steady footing on my Mother Earth. No, I must shoot from a moving car, which I am also driving.



But anyway, this is a tower or a lighthouse in Centralia. The ocean is a thousand miles away, so it is probably not meant as a lighthouse, unless farm tractors have a history of accidentally crashing into towns. Which might happen. Farmers might take for granted all of the boundless flat lands they have to harvest.

So I thirsted for a sidekick. Or I thirsted to be someone else's sidekick. I'm not sure which. This loner bullshit is getting to me. The mind tends to obsess on a little collection of worries, and soon enough they are neuroses. And neuroses are self-fueling. There is no need to spur on neuroses, Thank You Very Much. Usually, they aren't even ready to go to bed at the same time you are. And I guess I think that companions are a good, healthy distraction to the thought-plaque that leads to neuroses.

Basically, nothing's happening with me lately, and so finding something to write about is really hard. I mean, today I got up and took advantage of the hotel's high speed internet, and I got Soulseek up and running, and was amazed at the bandwidth, and I must have downloaded about twenty albums in twelve hours (which is great, because I needed new musics, like I've mentioned before...), and I looked out the window and noticed the wetness, and I remembered all of the thunder that had woken me up a few hours before, and I tried to get up the oomph to go out and do something, even if it was seeing "The Chronicles of Riddick" or something, but then I read some reviews of that movie, and I stayed in the room instead, and I watched "The Road to Perdition" on VHS tape, and I fell asleep, and I woke up and drove to Centralia and I took that picture, and I went to WalMart and bought blank CD's and some other stuff, and I noticed C2 (low-carb Coca-Cola) and convinced myself that I need to start drinking that instead, if not water, and I convinced myself of this by jiggling my chest, which absolutely should not jiggle, and I came back to the hotel, and I walked to Applebee's for dinner, and I sat at the bar and felt dumb again, telling myself that it is never acceptable to sit-down to dinner by yourself in places which were designed for Food AND Folks AND Fun, but I ate there anyway, and then I left and came back here and kept downloading and watched SNL and started writing this and reflected on my pathets. That was about it.

I don't take advantage of my new places. I just collect the pamphlets.

But I'm looking forward to new circumstances. New things and adventures, new priorities and purposes. Maybe I will have these things, and maybe I will prosper. But knowing full-well that I can drag any instance down into an ignorant yawn, I should not get my hopes up.

The life of a Saint for me.

Oh, speaking of jiggling, I guess that I'm pretty sure that Lofthouse cookies will be the end of me.

Songs for this week: Sufjan Stevens "All of the Trees of the Forest Will Clap Their Hands", Blind Melon "Change", The One AM Radio 'A Name Writ In Water', Delays "Bedroom Scene", The Walkmen "My Old Man", Placebo "Burger Queen", Broken Social Scene "Lover's Spit"



My solipsism has a belt clip.