Travelling

Ripped pants, rough shoes, a vacation well spent. Little relaxation, but lots of love. Friendship. Strange places. Awestruck and amazed at my journeys in life.

My mind is too busy with all of this.

[Written 27 May 2011]

A Busy Mind

A THOUSAND things flit through my skull. I can not keep them all, despite my efforts.

Girls, music, wine,

the encouragement of friends for me to join the enthusiastic, rhythmic melee.

All of it not foreign, yet strange and uncomfortable to me in a very familiar set of circumstances.

I know this place.

The language, the street names, no. But this place - an in-between space where I wish both to be discovered, yet not uncovered - is both familiar and disheartening for me.

I want them - THEM - to both break me out of this place that I'm in as well as leave me to stew in my own juices.

This, as usual, I find most annoying and disruptive of others' good times - a state I wish not to be in, but it is the only time that I find my pen and paper inviting. This is not constructive.

[Written 27 May, 2011]

A Perch

I sit above them, looking down, but yet looking up at their enthusiasm.

It is infectious, yet I feel immune - for whatever reason, I feel that to join in would be a mistake. Perhaps I know my penchant for showmanship, perhaps it is due to a lack of confidence (which could merely stem from my discomfort in my own skin), but whichever it is, I find that I am obstructed in my endeavor to fit in with those who I observe so dispassionately.

This is most unfortunate, at least as far as my social skills go, as this would be the perfect opportunity to "let loose" and enjoy an evening of a little alcohol mixed with a little music.

Whatever the reason, I wish to remain undiscovered, sitting on my perch.

[written 27 May, 2011]

Forgotten Note

As found on a scrap of paper:

What happens in this life is up to us. As Sartre once said, "Existence precedes Essence" - we are who we choose to be. Of course, it would be nice to be something other than a bum.

Truly, people act like they like me, but I know that their actions speak otherwise. It is not my fault that they feel this way, however, it is my choice to continue to associate with them (and, for that matter, to seek out the company of those who

[it ends there]

I think I was going to talk a little bit more about associating with people who just don't care about me. Who knows?

A Bar-tending Story

First off, no this isn't about me bar-tending, rather it's about a bar-tender (female) I met yesterday afternoon.

Let me put you in my frame of mind: I started going to lunch and decided that I wanted to do something different than my normal food cart or Dunkin' Donuts routine. I ended up at a near-by 'tavern' which I knew had good burgers. When I walked in, I was the only customer there.

Creepy Bastard

I don't know where I got it into my head that talking to women about relationship problems (in this case, the lack of a relationship) was a good idea, but I need to get rid of this notion quickly. I am a very singular creepy bastard.