I'm skipping a couple pages from this entry, but here's the part after talking about each of the friends that I felt inspired me and why:
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"So each of these people bring out something different in me. So when people like Bret say that I change my personality, or fit into the mold of somebody else's personality, they're right to some extent. But they don't realize that those are all parts of my personality that retract or pop out depending on whether or not those parts are inspired by the current company. Part of my sadness and frustration comes from the fact that parts of my personality that are so dear to me are far too often squelched into remission. I want to surround myself with people and experiences. I want people around me who want as much as I do; I want to e around people who are romantics, idealists, intellectuals, wit, candor, desire--yes! People who will pick up with me and FIND a way to do WHATEVER! Travel to San Francisco, paint a picture, walk through the forest, swim through the ocean, climb up the mountain, ride a bike across the state, walk aimlessly all through the night. ...
I need somewhere to vent my excitation, so much energy gets wasted and grows helplessly into frustration and contempt. Who do people waste so much time worrying instead of enjoying? Is it out of fear? threat? neurosis? I must know. And nobody admits to there being a problem with their worrying; everyone you confront about worrying makes it end up seeming like something you're doing wrong. You mean you're NOT worrying?!How can you NOT worry about...and they proceed to list infinite things they find wrong with your life, and you don't know whether to be mad at them, or at yourself. Everybody has his finely tuned defenses. If only they spent that energy just enjoying and appreciating. You know it's funny: I'm either in that mood, or I'm NOT! Like now, in a different setting (another cafe, but not at all the same, and I don't like the atmosphere) I can't even stand reading what I wrote. Now I just feel restless, escapist, want to be in someone else's life. Plus, it's hard to be like two or three doors down from the object of my desires, 15 1/2 years my elder, but who's counting? But the sobering reality of it all is that I have NADA to say to him. I don't know what the roadblock to the road to eternal bliss is, (gag!) but it's there. What I mean is that I feel all these possibilities where he is concerned. Like, I could see myself just laying with him, but you can't just START there, you have to go through some degree of idle chit-chat to get closer, then achieve that closeness I want to just START at. And as much as I can see being really close to him, I can't see just small-talking with him. Well, you have to get through one to get to the next. (like crawling to walking to running). I think I'll go drink now. I'm irritated with Jeff for not calling me back, Dave for not keeping in touch with me, and Bret for not asking me to get together with him. We'll see!
Here I try, yet AGAIN to write some sort of poem:
Is fog a friend or foe?
It only presents itself
upon some occasion. Yet every time
it shows up, you believe it's
been there all along. It's charming,
you are enraptured. It envelops
you in comfort
like a fuzzy blanket.
Full of warmth and mystery;
Almost stifling, yet immense.
Ode to Fog :)
Rarely around
yet when it is, so familial
as if never gone.
A comforting blanket of nostalgia
capable of suffocation,
yet wrapping me in bliss,
charmingly convincing that it's smothering immensity would be a gift.
Begging for its ubiquitous clutches.
Incessant reminders
of my small place in the universe.
O! My beautiful beast
Manipulating my mind
Languidly, Lingering, Longing;
Your brief presence soaked with intensity.
You smother me yet
MORE MORE MORE
is what I long for.
"no" you plead.
For you are best in sparing detail.
Me, always wanting more
until next time.
____________________________
Swaying Back and Forth
Side to Side
Simultaneously hopping
up and down
feet thumping, shaking
Head flailing, hair standing
up on end.
Mouth--involuntarily opens
to suck it all in
then clenches itself closed
to prevent any beauty
from escaping.
Provoked, enraptured, inspired, energized
GO GO GO!
There's no stopping it.
No restraint, No rules,
No right or wrong
Keys ignite
Fingers excite
Results incite
Exaltation."
__________________________
(in the right margin, I had written:
ECSTASY...OOH!
MEOW!
Meow
Meow.
CLAD?
Peter
Peter
?
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