So like I'm sitting at Cafe Nineteen, I have 2 hours to blow until the movie starts, I might not even go and see this movie, I might just sit here and chill for a while, write the day away, go and cop those combat boots and keep it moving. But I'm glad I came out today, I needed the fresh air, I needed the sunlight. Half naked in the city always suits my kind.
My kind, those words always make me laugh, I mean, I don't feel any different. You bleed, I bleed, but a long time ago I learned that I was different, people always told me, said there's something about me, but nah, nah, there's something about you. I'm just me, what else is there to be? What you pick up on is originality. That's all.
Summer is here, school kids are out. Watching this couple, this young couple and their family, this young mother who hasn't cracked a smile once during this entire affair, and this father? This father who moves with an underlying slither of glee at the thought of having caught such a beautifully unhappy girl. At this point in my life, it's honestly either, have a baby, or get famous.
And I'm not having no fucking baby.
My fingers are itching at the thought of these combat boots. I need them, the fashionista in me is clawing at my subconcious, I just want to jump this fence run and buy them and come back with them on my feet. It gets like that sometimes, that superficial need, there's a look I want to convey, not to the world, but to myself. Combat boots have always suited me. I find myself going back to my old ways, everyday my choices are a little darker, a little "punker", I might even go through Hot Topic and buy some beautiful finds.
I mean, that's my heart.
Rock star.
I can't really help it I suppose.
But enough with that superficial shit.
I'm moving out Wednesday. Praise his light. Jesus the freedom, the solitude is just so close. I pray my new land lord isn't a psycho serial killer. That would...suck so much. I've watched so much Law and Order, SVU, CI, CSI, Monk, Psych the list of detective shows I adore goes on and on, the point is I hope his plot line has never been played any part in any of these shows. I just want to sit in a white room, with little to no furniture and start life.
I need to get some curtains though, I might just make some. But. For that I'd need a sewing machine. And I sold mine years ago. Problematic no? I could just use a stapler, I've done that before. On a dress. I still own that dress in fact. Staples haven't even rusted. Super staples for the win.
Looking at these high school kids, the kind I wouldn't have associated with during my own high school years, all about the steez, about the boys, about the look, about the bullshit, what was I about in high school? I stayed searching, for that enlightenment, at the time I didn't even know what I was looking for but I understand it now, I was looking for meaning, for purpose. I refused to believe the shit that entertained so many of my peers was all there was to life. I hated the idea of monthly mortgage payments, of a normal mundane life with bills and trivial issues that blow up enough to endanger you own health.
I always knew there was more to it all. I always knew that happiness was only a blink away, the trouble was finding that kick.
Too consumed with the abnormal to fuck around with the mundane. I sensed from a young age that life was too valuable to waste it on unhappiness, waste it on lies.
The only truth is joy.
That's reality.
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