It’s been hot today and very unproductive. My mom decided that saving the world—or her power bill—means turning the dial down on the water heater. Something I didn’t even know was possible. So now, showers are cold. And if there is hot water it lasts about a minute before all of it has dripped out of the faucet head and swirled so sadly away. Not that it’s important. Whatever, the cold water can be nice. In a hot house especially. They left for Brianhead and now what. Now I guess I am just here as usual. I slept for a while, until about 11. Then I did my usual stroll down the stairs towards a microwave, maybe a banana, orange juice, television. TV has got to be the worst thing ever. And I don’t even care. I just sit for a while and have no idea what the hell I am doing. Like when you wait for your body to react to something really hot or really cold. But when something is so intense that it takes a lifetime because the signals get all mixed. That’s what my television experiences are turning into.
I eventually make my way back up, back to the computer. Back to the same internet and back to the same what the hell is with the content I exist in. Or no, the content is really my society as a whole. But jesus christ it is some of the most mundane or stupid shit. And I can’t really complain about it. I’m not. Just amazed I guess. So I listen to music and give up on that. It’s the heat I tell myself. I swear it’s the haze this house can become when all the windows are open. When the sun graces the hallways and rooms and begins to throb gently. The wood is throbbing I say. The windows are burning they say. And I say that I must lay down. So I do. And I did. And I was in front of a fan the whole time but a fan only goes so far when its not mounted on a ceiling. Now a ceiling fan, that’s a wonderful contraption. I’m going to put it up there with my top ten favorite things. The stationary one that was limping in my bed, it blew in front of my face and that was it. The rest of me heated up and I swished around uncomfortably for a long time. I read some Collette but gave up on her because she is French and I was in no mood for the French and their ‘thoughts’. I’m lucky to interact with the female species in a day, dis-regarding family. So sometimes regarding the idea of the pure and impure, being either I say. Well shit, not really a problem in this camp so I said fuck it and bookmarked that bitch. Then I passed out and woke up. In and out of my own dull throbbing. The sun made me shift and then I curled up in at least three different positions.
None of them exciting ladies. I swear. None of them the least remote of enticing. If you’ve seen a man who cuts his long legged pajamas when he is high and drunk because ‘he is too hot,’ well, you’ve seen something incredibly ridiculous and unattractive. Ask those who have witnessed the look. Where the pants were cut unevenly with a pair of scissors, that go above the knees and look like something Pauly Shore would rock. I kid you not, my boxers are longer and they stick out giving this fucked up layered look for shorts. Like I wore a white t-shirt under to give an ‘effect’. What the fuck Julian? That’s all I ever tell myself when I look in the mirror in the mornings now.
I remember at some point two conversations. One long and one short. By long I mean long for me in terms of a phone conversation. Usually a phone pickup is signaled by huh, oh, okay. Then I register something rather vague with the person on the other line and hope we meet so all confusion is put aside. Jake called to talk about the show. We talked about other things and I heard the most epic burp I have heard in ages. For real Jake, that burp made me think of Volcanoes. And then, in an instant it was done and I was back in the throb and my cut-offs. The second one was Edris. He wanted to know when to meet. Which, I have slowly become less and less apt and congregating with anything or anyone. Its just a matter of developing taste. I like watching structure collapse. Not that I mean it in a malicious way. I mean if you separate yourself and watch something emerge and then submerge. Or be free but then existing in a space that it didn’t anticipate. Its like a flower that tried to bloom but didn’t and the wind blew it away. Its rather pretty in its light of day. The light of the day, and sometimes even funny. So I didn’t really have an answer for Edris but I told him I’d figure it out. So I will and we will congregate and go to the show. And then the girls. Oh, the Venture Brothers comes to mind when the man writes, “The bitches were in fine form.” And oh yes, the bitches will be in fine form gentleman. If they aren’t then were screwed and Perry can just suck himself into a monastery and in about 5 years when my own delusion is wiped away I suppose I’ll join him. But its funny really. Who you would fuck? Cause it really is funny like that. Page through your magazines and do it. Stewie did it at a funeral with all the babies. You can do it too.
After my shower I walked around and dripped. And then I clothed and managed to listen to the new Killers album twice. Though I cant say almost complete. I mean I can and what I meant was not complete but almost. Real cheeky Kid, real cheeky. Then I made a stab at writing more for the Funeral Procession, but really, I couldn’t. I just sort of stared at the harmonica scene and lost my mind in a slow roll. Like Sisyphus, I feel it all the time. Not to take him with me. I’m sure all of ‘you’, feel like him at points too.
And that’s the silly point, really. Keep on pushing that retarded boulder up the hill.
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i see London, i see Sam’s Town.
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