bad and good
2002-10-09 3:31 a.m.
hmm...a few times in my life, women who have been close to me have made a big deal about how often i show emotion... or rather how i don't show the bad emotions very often. tonight, i have been reminded of why i do not share too often with these particular critics...
About 3 years back i was an up-an-coming battle dj, with a killer pen for writing, pencil for sketching, ear for music and production, with tons o accomplishment under my belt, and lots of close friends... I figured it was the making of a good and successful life. Go to an even Bigger city, make it big and bring everyone with me on the fun ride into the sunset...
So, I'm freelancing these days, business is slow, my apartment is small, my budget is tight, i don't drink so much, or eat for that matter... I haven't written well in a year and a half, i haven't drawn anything since I left home. My turntables are fairly foreign to me. And A bunch of other things.
But, if you are anywhere near me, you would never notice. I lead a successful life. I'm a happy man. I got a girl, a place to live, I work from home. Got a few close friends in 2 large cities...
So, after 2 entirely nonmotivated days. 2 Days in front of 600 channels of nothing and reruns of nothing else. I want to draw.. I want to rock a crowd. I want to inspire with my words. I want to kiss a woman I've recently met (nobody in particular at the moment, as in hypothetical "recently") on the collar bone and do what i can to make the back of her knees tingle. I want to get entirely wasted and add to my long list of blurred stories...
I opened my mouth and told my girl, the woman who I listen to every day, all of these things (except for the collar bone thing). And after a ten minute rant.. which is very short in this small place, I find myself consoling her. Consoling her!?!? She hates to see how hard it is for me, how unmotivated I am, how untalented i feel, how imprisoned i feel. She hates herself for not being able to fix it all. I know.. it's what love is all about... But why the fuck do I get yelled at when I don't listen, but I can't say anything when you're crying and yelling about my personal issues.
On a MUCH happier note, I hung out withg T and A for a few drinks the other night. T knew of a spot where you can get a shot and a beer for $5. Amazing. It turns out T spent a few weeks with psycho I messed around with a couple months back. He confirmed how absolutely nuts she is.. and how much of a freak she is. I was so happy that he could agree with everything.
You see, after all the shit hit the propeller, I didn't tell anyone anything. One, for privacy's sake, but the other reason being that if i told anyone that this trick would do anything short of suicide for some dick, everyone would figure i was a regular guy who was full of shit. If I told the world I tried to break away and was practically stalked (not harmfully but still) I would look like the ass. So this guy asked me if I felt she was nuts and we clowned on her for a good hour in our drunkeness...
I slept happy.. and NO HANGOVER!!!
I think I'm gonna start sketching again tomorrow..