threading the threshold & told to take on the thriving alive

I don’t know if it’s true, but I believe that it hasn’t stopped raining in days. That the sky has been a perpetual shade of chalk, and the wet collects on tree branches and attacks underwalkers en-masse.

I have not been able to elude the effects. The city is dreary and reminiscent of home. Which sucks.

There are also constant sirens and whistles outside, as if the city is in danger at all times, and perhaps a state of emergency has been declared, and I would know this if only I would turn on the television.

I believe it hasn’t stopped raining or drearying in many days, and it feels like it’s taken pains to have an effect.

I ate half a bag of cheetos and a coke for lunch. I repeat: my lunch was half a bag of cheetos and a coke.

I felt slightly ill for the rest of the day.

I was about to throw up my hands, and give up. I had laid against the floor with headphones and listened to "Awaken" and felt nothing, which has never happened. I must be getting tough. And then I let the record run out and I stared at the ceiling in silence for awhile. And then I peeled the shrinkwrap off of "Lost In Translation" and I inserted it into the digital video disc player, and I pressed play.

And then the phone rang and it was Lindsay with Nora, and I went to Shockoe Bottom to see a very young man play the hell out of his keytar.

Rumor has it, they played a theme from Castlevania. Chic!

I could have danced, because I was wearing my new green sneakers. But I did not dance. Instead, I leaned against sturdy things and placed my hands into my pockets. Because that’s just what I do.

After the keytar, some dudes who were dressed like leprechauns and bunnyrabbits came out with ukuleles, and they sang two songs in a row about whiskey, and so we left.

I had a piece of carrot cake and two cups of coffee at the 4th street café. The coffee is why I am still up, I think.

Lindsay also pointed out that everyone seemed to take for granted that the Jaws shark which was burning with ferocity on the television screen above the grills of the diner was not burning the way you would expect a big wet shark fish animal to burn, and was in fact burning much more like a robot shark might burn, if the robot shark were made out of hellgasoline, octane-2000, or something. Everyone in the film was simply revelling in their hopelessly short-term hopes of the shark posing no further threat. And so, were not considering the long-term implications of superignitable robotsharks.

I apologize if the previous paragraph was too much for you to endure. It happens, sometimes.

Also, we should re-cap my choice of foods for Saturday: half a bag of cheetos, one can of coca-cola, a piece of carrot cake, and two cups of coffee.

Maybe I should buy an apple.

I will make up for it on Sunday, because I am going to eat Thai for lunch. It’s like a second date, or a continuation of the first date from last weekend. It was like pulling teeth, to get the second date. I am not usually one to press for results, but somehow I pressed for results in order to get the dumb second date. I almost wish that I hadn’t’ve bothered. Because I felt like I was being a bother. Or maybe I’m considering it all wrong. Or wait, who cares?

Other miscellaneous things that I did on Saturday:

1. Wiped accumulated condensation out of my toolbox.
   
2. Pressurized a soccer ball.
   
3. Drew a picture of a tree (leafless) in charcoal, with surrounding grasses in watercolour.
   
4. Recorded a song with words that make no sense.
   
5. Contemplated purchasing additional clothes hangers.
   
6. Avoided eighteen of twenty questions submitted by my mother via AIM.
   
7. Shipped a Moody Blues cassette to the United Kingdom. And maybe that’s where it will finally find happiness.
   
8. Admired a young Peter Gabriel, just for being really weird.
   
9. Put more old things into newer shoeboxes.