Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Memoir excerpt - Chapter One

HOLY! FUCKING! SHIT! JESUS-H-MARY-MOTHER-OF-GOD, Holy. Fucking. Shit. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god……… oh my Fucking-Jesus-Fucking-God....... CHRIST!... ……………... Jesus.

Yeah, that’s a good place to start.

I stand, I fall, I crawl.

I should scrawl something down tonight, if for nothing more than my sanity. I had to remove the Jake Gyllenhaal entry, it was not only unnecessary, but it was also bringing me a lot of unwanted attention. Anyway...

I keep smelling urine. Right now even, as I type this, and since lately I plan my life about 4 seconds into the future, I don't realize at this very moment that it is me producing the urine smell, well actually I do realize this, I do now, because it has been more than 4 seconds since I thought to look down toward the general area of the human anatomy where urine is produced, and so at this point, I've since looked down and seen the splotch on my shorts, but I'm trying to write this in real time, which is difficult because of the lag between thought and typing, so bare with me - now, in less than 4 seconds (which as mentioned before it has now been), I will look down and see dribble on my Nike shorts, the shorts I wear to bed, my pajama shorts, which are perforated, stretchy and blue, and might actually be wider than they are long, yep, there it is, corresponding exactly to where one would assume urine to appear if it were to appear on clothing, yes, this would be the spot, the place for urine to appear, and sure enough, there it is, urine. Inexplicably, slightly peeing my pajama shorts brings a smile. This is the perfect token to this gloriously cracked day. This day that should have set me back a marathon in reverse, has instead pushed me forward three more feet. I stand, I fall, I crawl, no matter, all three get me where I'm going, and speed is the least of my concerns. Pee is too. This is all nonsense. Good night.


I don't think I can do this story justice, but I will try, because this is what I do.

(For proper intensity, multiply the following by 1000)
Last week I was asleep in a small hotel room in Ashland, Oregon when something terrifying happened. It was sometime in the middle of the night, the lights were off, it was quiet, I was alone in my king size bed, with my hideous comforter, asleep like a giant. The next thing was instant, light speed, while I was face down on my pillow, an unendurable pain seared me. Something grabbed a hold of my left calf from the inside, jaws came down on my muscles, twisting my entire body into oblivion. I froze stiff, then began flapping and thrashing like a hooked fish. I flipped and turned in madness. I grabbed my calf, then let go, grabbed it again, then let go, my own body hurled me onto the floor, jolting and clinched I wailed and blubbered in complete slobbering silence, holding in my screams while holding my leg. I can't say I ever remember feeling such pain, ever, and then, like a switch, it was over, and I was alone on the floor. The fucking weirdest part, the part I can't seem to even begin to wrap my brain around, NOT AT ALL, was that I fell right back to sleep. I woke up the next morning dizzily freaked out, coupled with a tender lower leg that had 80's horror movie written all over it. Now, before some jack-tard tells me I had a charlie horse, let me tell you, I've had a charlie horse, trust me, this was not that. But I really want to understand, what was it?

Friday, May 22, 2009

Spiritual enlightenment sucks.

Dear God,

Spiritual enlightenment sucks.
It's fucking hard.
It's fucking boring.
And it's fucking stupid.

Not cool,
J fucking G

Re: Spiritual enlightenment sucks.

Dear JG,

Suck it up pansy.


Monday, May 18, 2009

Bring Me A Higher Love

I set my alarm last night for the first time in months, and, right on time at 3:40 a.m. this morning, my Super Shuttle driver showed up in true Los Angelean form to take me to the airport - "Bring Me A Higher Love" by Steve Winwood was playing, and it is officially the opening song to the soundtrack of this adventure. It's 3:40 in the morning, and I'm bringing me a higher love.

We just picked up a girl in Silverlake who is heading to Portugal.

(To be continued)...

Today was bananas. Somehow 3 one-way flights required me to remove my shoes 4 times, and my compensation for this was one fig newton? If I weren't riding on 27 minutes of sleep in the past 48 hours, I would elaborate more, but it will have to wait. In a cram, here's the backdrop of this exhibition; to buy an old Mercedes wagon in Corvallis, Oregon, then, listen to my soul to guide me home. So far my soul has told me Oregon is poor and weird, and old ladies who smoke are brilliant, both of which I already knew. But, my previous rule that old men who wear plaid have life all figured out, has sadly acquired an exception. Good night.

Oh, I now have an open invite to Portugal and Spain, which I am moderately considering since I have declined four thousand other invites of the recent past. Good night.

(To be continued)...

Monday, May 4, 2009

Said girl

I decided not to publish any writing lately until I had something positive to say, so, after eight days and 32 unpublished entries, brace yourself, I'm about to go off on how rad I am.

For the two years prior to 8 weeks ago, I defined myself through someone else. No, scratch that. For the 20 years prior to 8 weeks ago. Here's how it generally works; (note: I am using the present tense "works" because it will help the following stream of thoughts flow easier , that said, I should be using the past tense "worked" because I will never let the following happen again). So again, here's how it generally works; I meet girl, said girl is attractive, from there I find out said girl is amazing too; artistic, smart, funny, mindblowingly ablaze in bed, and so on. I charm said girl with laughter, wit and curls, among other things (like a secretly amazing body which is "accidentally" not so secret anymore when I stage an all too soon shirtless event), all of these charismatic bewitcharies are gifts I received from god, which make up for any gifts I didn't receive from god, thank you god, the result, said girl unravels to tell me (usually within 30 days) I'm the most amazing guy of all time and she loves me with every aching fiber of her exploding being. From there I cherish said girl's love for me, or destroy it, depending on a complicated number of factors which are not important to the point, which is that I don't really love myself, instead just define myself through someone else, also known as said girl, anyway, I believe said girl, I believe all the extraordinary things said girl tells me I am, because it is easier to believe said girl than to love myself, I blame my father for this, then I blame others, then I realize I'm 35 and alone, finally I blame myself, back to said girl, I use how amazing said girl is to make myself feel amazing, after all, amazing said girl is with me, but this creates a dependent, insecure, and ultimately false sense of my own amazingness, it's all backward, I'm a cliche' who needs to love himself first, but said girl is backward too, which makes it difficult for both of us to see this, several years later we relinquish to canceling each other out through an unfortunate betrayal of power struggling events, we break up, the cycle repeats, until now.

As it turns out, I really am that heartbreakingly amazing guy all those awesome babes kept telling me about. Had I not been such a selfish, wreckless, baby I would have realized years ago that it would only take me 8 weeks to figure that out. Granted, the magnitude and weight of how hard the past 8 weeks have been cannot be measured against any other experience in my life, that would only make the past 8 weeks seem trite. There is no doubt I am still suffering over the reminders of my past love, but I am committed to calmly letting it all go. I embrace this new life for the truth and confusion it brings, and although I am lost in a snow globe of decisions yet to come, I am still alive, and I am squeezing the beauty of that one thing. I am alive. I am getting through all of this on my own, alone, not wavering for a moment from what I need, not what I want, but what I need, and in the process of all this, I've fallen hopefully in love with me. I'm unfolding a new life of change and dreams in every corner of who I am, and what I want is coming to me. I am said girl, and Dude!, I'm f'ing awesome! And now that I'm learning to love myself, define who I am through my own shades, decide what I want from my true intuition, my f'ing awesomeness just exploded like a pinata, only it wasn't filled with Tootsie Roll Pops and Sweet Tarts, it was filled with more f'ing awesomeness, which I am now casually collecting off the grass, since there is nobody else but me here to grab it. Don't worry though, I'm saving it all for when it's time to share.
*(f'ing awesomeness list upon request)