Frisco as the dog would say

Seeing the family is always the kind of experience that opens and shuts the heart. Or something else I could say that might be generic about this weekend which i spent in san francisco. after we left my brother at his new apartment, which ha lovely fluffy floorboards, and a clean toiler, I wondered if there’s any point to this blog. No. I went in the car with my parents, and we drove and I thought about taxi drivers in general, and also the people who talk to them, like Geoff my eighth grade teacher. I’m one too, but I didn’t intend to talk about myself, and also I didn’t talk to this taxi driver, who was not, like racist stereotypes and myself might assume, Indian or Arab. He had long white hair in a pony tail and a mousy face. I imagined him the kind to appear to be a gentleman, but lack the compassion. He would appear at dances with a fist close to the belt so he could wack someone if he felt like it, but not near the face, not so they wouldn’t see it coming, but so that he wouldn’t appear violent. My parents talked to him, and then they stopped. There was nothing to say. We didn’t have an interesting conversation among ourselves in the back of the taxi. We talked about the key that we’ forgotten to leave in Sandy’s car, or maybe daddy did it on purpose so he could see Sandy one last time, not in the vicinity of boggle.

Today he dropped the key through his car’s slightly open window (though he could have put it in the mailbox), and when he talked to Sandy on the phone, he told him (my father) that at his new company, they give him free lunch. I spent the day with mommy shopping at Macy’s. I recall feeling faint and tired after the first half hour of browsing bargain shoes (not because it sucked, but because I was sick), and. We then went up to the women’s department and I tried on some high class boating attire, i.e. a pair of slick and butt hugging white shorts that came down awkwardly to the knee, and then a navy blue tank top that was loose, and not form fitting. I bought neither, but spent about 18 minutes in the dressing room holding my hair near the top of my head and pretending something about myself. Figuring out the persona of these shorts and shirt while I looked in the mirror.  I coughed violently throughout the day, and tried to ignore mommy telling me to cover my mouth while I contemplated if I was an inconsiderate person.

Right now I’m staring at an oil painting I did of myself – it’s not finished – I did it while on Addheroll. It’s amazing how not sane I am. Ideas are not always good if they come at a bad time, and you can’t use them but you try to anyway, and it makes what you were already doing bad. What I am trying to say is that I am feeling depressed, and my feet look lumpy in the white socks I bought, kidding not aside. It shall pass. That is far beside the point, almost in front of the point. I have changed the facts of my life to suit a particular mood, and due to an ingrained belief system that pain and suffering only hurt oneself an are therefore “harmless,” I remain in this mood. I stuck myself in it. I will not let myself get out of it. If I could convince myself that being depressed is selfish, and also hard work, I might be happier. I remember writing “Sulking” as a sin to toss into the ocean on Yom Kippur, and Rebecca’s reaction being unbelief that self-pity could be a sin. It is counterintuitive, because it doesn’t help us, so who does it help, and the answer is: no one. But it is also easy. I am going to bed. Goodnight.


Lay in bed, looking at circus freaks that are conjoined twins. My stomach kind of hurts finally. I can empathize with all of them.

In the Supermarket

When i first went to the supermarket I got lost, and I started singing “Lost in the Supermarket” by the Who.

or maybe it was the clash. I just spent 20 minutes day dreaming because I couldn’t remember who it was by. That seems like a silly thing to do, although sillier because I wasn’t even in a supermarket today. Debbie is talking to me, but I am writing on my blog. Maybe she will come in here.