2001-06-14 5:57 p.m.
syndrome or just foaming at the mouth?

end of another day at la-dee-da.com.

the fact that people make money on these ventures (or pretend to rather effectively) is a neverending source of amusement. today we were supposed to launch a new version of the site, but not only did it not work (and the 'consultants' had no idea why), the folks in charge didn't have the foresight to have yon producer (me) set up an old-style version of the site. You know...just in case.

anyway.

And I'm all scattered and tired, like I always get when I eat pretzels (sugar sensitivity strikes again!), and I'm dreaming about lots of things...

skin...teeth...sex smells. ramen. bed. a TV. bicycling around the neighborhood. my new room. a new roommate (the girl we interviewed last night was pretty cool).

most of all, being here, watching the comic industry crumbling, I wonder what I'm going to do if my and Dan's plans don't work out, if we don't break through, if my mini-comic or my fiction proves insanely more profitable a venture.

I could be flippant, give the camera a wink, and toss off a bon mot about how we'll bounce back, about how those brothas are unsinkable.

And maybe we are. Hell, we lived through the divorce, through Dan's problems in high school, through the fall of the family empire.

Most of all, I survived myself, and continue to do so everyday. I cage myself in a prison of my own problems every day, and every day I run the maze, toy with the tumblers like a true cat burglar, and unlock my soul to the warmth of day for yet another one.

but I do wonder what would happen to me, to us. Dad's never really bounced back from his setbacks.

�

left turn:

cute moment: I was the K-Mart scouting for the $3 or so of junk food I could both put on my credit card and subsist on; I headed up the up escalator to hit the subway and an adorable little girl was watching me rise as she moved down. Her hand slid towards mine, and as I lifted mine to get it out of her way, she did a similar motion, a second before I did, making this nifty little double-arc in the air between us, two hands leapfrogging each other. I love synchronicities like that, especially where kids are concerned. It reminds me about why I want to have them someday...they're fun to watch. So many people don't pay attention to what we can learn from children.

I don't think I live unconsciously...I just live at a different vibrational frequency, a different speed than most people. Not faster, not slower, just off-kilter to the status quo.

I don't need to destroy the world, change it with philosophy or art wank, or fit in so completely that I'm invisible.

I'll just leave my mark. Simple as that. It doesn't take as much as people think it does. Just be who you are, say what you've got to say.

�

somersault:

I think the shimmers are playing with me again. My reptile brain's on the move sometimes, nudging the other centers of me out of the way. On the train, when people are squeezing me into an inkspot, when I feel someone's following me late at night...it's got my back.

I'm sure there's a psychological syndrome for believing in your own fictional creations...but I do.