I did my push-ups and sit-ups
and got the fuck out of Dodge. I'm in front of the Roach Motel and the urchins were already packed through the elevators like sardines, and have all gotten up to the 4th floor by now. When I breeze through that lobby it's as if nobody's there. Amazing. I get up to room 4C, sign in, eat my breakfast, and churn air.
I suffer churning until 10:30 when break is called. I stash my lunch in a folder that I'm carrying
because you can't bring lunch into a lab and then join the mob scene in front of lab 4F. The urchins are crawling all over themselves. The amazing thing to me is, what's up with that? The fucking door is locked anyway, what is all this vying for position? Presently Ms Tee comes and unlocks the door. I get the same system that I got yesterday, which is good because I know that it is a PC that will not be causing me any aggravation. Today, I don't play systems guru.
I play on the system until just before lunchtime where time melts. I go to room 418 early and find the two nasty bitches inside busily getting ready for lunch, as if they are being chased by a 10 in hard on. I interrupt their headlong escape and ask for my metrocard. This is important for me because I don't have the money to get home. One of them helps me out bitterly and has me sign out for my card. Nasty bitch.
I hop out of the Roach Motel, another half day, and then march from there up to thirty fourth street to pay bills, and then from there across town to Dr. A.'s office. I am in a good mood. He and Eve, his secretary, are fine. This always puts a smile on my face. He reminds me that I have an MRI to get and I nod. I get my necessary documents from them and head out and take the Way uptown back home and decompress. I get online and work until it's time to go to the STARK reading.
I Way back downtown and find Nola Studios, an excellent space in the theater district and listen to the readers, getting inspired. I'm still feeling good as the reading progresses and we take an intermission. My brother, T-Fuk and myself pack into the bathroom. T-Fuk has brought his loving roscoe and my brother and I take a hit. Whoa. I'm lifted in moments. I get ready to read, choosing three poems, 'How She Fucks' being one of them, just to see how it goes over. It gets a laugh and an applause. I always wonder about that one more than the rest of them that I read. It can be accepted both ways by an audience. It's nerve wracking but it's good to be reading in the circuit again. I've been missing the involvement.
I think it stems from running your own reading, which means work all week long, it really does. And then you have to put your all into being a host. I'm stressed already all week long, and I neglect my needs. Now with my new 'job' churning air interfering with everything, it only portends less involvement. I used up a good thing again. Time. Although, as I've learned, in my life, there is something always better, or worse around the bend, but there is always SOMETHING. Nothing stays like it is forever, no matter what we believe. It's just that we've gotten so good at ADAPTING our lives to these changes that we don't feel it, we just get to the point where we go through it.
But our lives change. It's nothing like it was five years ago. Well mine isn't. Everything is temporary. Some of us work to keep change from our lives. We crawl into a routine and go through life by rote. This equals safety to us. But in reality, it is not. It is compromise...our lives for this or that. Everything you do, I don't care if it's a nine to five and living in an apartment, or work at managing a Fortune 500 company, or even playing in a blues band, whatever it is that you are doing, you pay for it with your life, in small increments. If you look at it like that, that you pay for everything that you do with your life, it's pretty sobering. If you are living on the streets, you ask yourself: Is this what I want to do or should I look for change when it comes around, and spend my life working on that?
Our lives are still going to change, no matter how we try it from doing it. No matter what it is. Even age will catch up to those of us that can keep things from changing radically. Well, I'm droning on again. We meet up with D2theL, and head outside. Viv comes up to us and invites us to a nearby coffee house for dinner. Well, you know how us hobo's are. I'm thinking of how little I have in my refrigerator for dinner, so I'm going. My brother does too. When we get there we find Satan (a man who has changed his looks to look like the evil master, and he does) who mooned the audience at the reading, swinging cock, balls and all. Sobering reading if you ask me. Some people have a lot on their minds if you ask me. There was a woman. I lost track of her name, BIG FUCKING MIKE, and Viv.
I pick out a dinner, of a chicken wrap, chips, soda and pickle. I feel bad for two reasons. One, I am as high as a sequoia so I can't focus on the conversation that is going on around me, and when I can't focus, I shut the fuck up, because I'm the high kind of person that comes out with a completely off comment in a busy conversation simply because I can't follow; and Two, the fucking MUNCHIES kicked in full steam so I was busy inhaling my meal instead of joining in the conversation like OBSIDIAN. For this I apologize. Well, I apologize to myself, I'm too stoned to do much else.
From the diner I say goodbye to my brother and head up to my room.I return to my humble surround- ings.
I feel good that I read. It was a rush. Now I realize what I've been missing.
HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-get-high-with-little-help.html
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