pushing my lazy sails.

i’m feeling frightfully hermit-like.
the last few days have been a little on the ridiculous side as i alternately trip out and wonder where all this red light is coming from, or sit in the darkling deep of my basement wondering if i truly have no soul, or even worse, no style.
it’s okay, though, because there are a million cliche’s that get me through hard times.
i don’t even have to pretend that i’m above cliche’s. like i stare down my nose at them. cliche’s are people too. our mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters. bored bellhops and boring scientists alike.
or, let’s boil it down: me and you.

i sometimes think that the only instance in which one is permitted to attend some sort of social function is if everyone there will miss you if you don’t show up. that’s a good rule of thumb, i think. it allows you to make a glorious entrance, and your exit is even better.
that was the rule i lived by, to a tee, when i was a bit younger. i’ve started to relax a bit, though. maybe i’m finally starting to sell out? to give up on being mad at everyone twenty four hours a day? being a snob and lovingly broadcasting it across the globe?
if only i could stop chewing my fingernails so effortlessly!

there isn’t too much energy flowing behind this generation. i don’t feel like i am a part of a goddamn thing. i don’t feel a connection to other people my age. i don’t possess a non-verbal understanding with all the other 22 year olds around that says we just know how "it" is.

i thought of something kind of funny the other night, and i’ll tell you what it is.
i was lying in bed, and i thought that it was a little on the hilarious and absurd side that there are girls (are they "women" yet? am i old enough? i don’t know where the line is drawn) on the planet that i was positively in LOVE with and wanted to marry and make mine at some point or another that i haven’t spoken to or seen in years.
i used to tell myself that desire doesn’t fade. wouldn’t fade. something that intense doesn’t just disappear with a "poof" and a big puff of smoke!
but really now.
it can fade faster than the courtesy applause given to the performer no one likes, but everyone knows.
we’re figuring things out, here.
getting there.

i think, at this pivotal point in the battle, one of the best things i can do is retreat to somewhere else and start the fight over again. take what i’ve learned and recycle it somewhere else where no one knows who i am. it’s not too late for anyone except the dodo bird.

"honey, i’m going to the store to try and find a muse! you want anything while i’m gone?!"

yes, i do.
shitloads of money or one of those golden-egg-laying-hens.
either or!

(name)