2001-07-03 9:55 p.m.
various and sundry me's

I was home sick today, though I wasn't home.

I was out feeling good, actually. I'm sick, but in the simple fatigue sense. On other levels today, I was flying.

Playing volleyball with random strangers from Rhode Island and Jersey, laughing and talking with Mariko and D, being out in the sunshine for the first time in I don't know how long...

That photo goes out to all of those who expect to see D and I in a few years, writing scripts by some pool in LA. Hate to break it to ya, but we've already done the sunny climes thing. ;)

At the same time, I'll never complain about our writing process (which I need to continue tonight)...Mariko tonight called us both "treasuries of ideas," that we keep withdrawing from. I got wondering what kind of deposit we have to make from time to time.

�

left turn:

My brain's on wildfire lately. It could be due to being sick...it could just be not writing enough...but of all things, I have the most faith in my ability to write, in my mind's eye, and my ability to put together people, ideas, moments, themes, all in a soup with mashed potatoes on the side (which sound kinda good at the moment).

Funnily enough, D keeps saying that I've lost weight, which freaks me out a bit. I doubt there's been any point in my life where that's happened (except for that time senior year of high school when I was on a strict 1500 cal/day regimen...which wasn't tough to do; simple breakfast, a sandwich/apple/OJ at Publix for lunch (usually in the car), and Mom's dinner, which was rarely unhealthy), so I'm never convinced. Even so, my clothes, most of them, are getting looser...bizarre. This'd be the first time I've had to buy new duds because of this.

But back to mind rather than body, I feel like I'm becoming one of the Crib kids (from a forthcoming project), an egoless child, full of abilities and tasks and directions...but no ego, no massive emotional investment in some other areas of reality. I don't feel any great need to be political, because I don't want to be a part of society sometimes. I don't troll for sex or love all that often, because I'm not being clubbed over the head by my hormones as much as I used to be. I was standing on the docks on Coney Island, gazing out into a barely lit sky, listening to the sounds of fishermen stomping on crabs to make them stop moving and slitting fish open, all while I stared out at the dark blue horizon, dreaming of a different life, of being a dolphin, a fish, a shark, caught up in instinct and singular nature. I got lost in that moment, primal, yearning, dreaming of an ancestry that humankind pushes away at every turn. We can't deal with who we've been, just who we're becoming, even if that denial costs us our understanding, and hence, our world.

Holistic, savage, juggling universes. That's how I feel these days, like Michael Motian (as David Bowie's hands in "Labyrinth") juggling glass globes, spinning my multiple natures round and round until I can look through one and see the others, have them align in some cosmic formation that'll make sense to me.

The glam of Grant Morrison, the heart of Garth Ennis, the yearning of Ray Bradbury, the multinstrumentalism of Mike Mills and Jeff Noon...mix those with a Darwinian keenness of perception and an odd sense of alienation, and you might see where my writing head's been lately...characters are stirring my brain that are full and pained, being pulled between what they can be and what their own choices and fate have made them...and trying to keep a sense of humor despite it all.

Is it any wonder I'm not having much sex?

I can't help it. I'm not a particularly good companion these days, at least for the usual bargoers or club girls...I'm a mouthy handful, a literary burp and a man who'll never outrun his gifted child's need to understand the world.

That could be why there was such a lack of revelation during my trip, that I'm already so in constant personal revolution that any chemical keys are just going to tell me the same thing:

relax.

and I smile, stretch, and get some dinner ready. A walk and some Playstation and some time on another of our many pitches. Sounds good to me...but not every night. No, not every night.

PS -- If you want to say hi, feel free. I'd love the banter. :)