Don’t take this personally, but I totally don’t feel like writing this paragraph you’re reading. As grateful as I am to have a slot on the illustrious Amoeblog, and even though I have a great big crush on you, dear reader, there are times (they’re rare, but there) when I feel like I have nothing to give, and this is one of those times.
I mean really... what's the point of anything, anyhow?
As if all this wasn’t enough to render me limp, I discovered today that our young cat, Maybe, has a taste for new, unused garbage bags…
I am not a strong man. Well, physically I’m totally strong and could absolutely beat up your dad, but my heart is tender and prone to aching. This world often feels too cruel and complicated for the likes of me. Usually I can fake it, but every once in a while the stress and fear and sadness fills my holding tank to capacity, and there’s spillage.
A breakdown can come unexpectedly. For example, yesterday’s meltdown all started with a conversation with the boyfriend about why I didn’t want to order Indian food on my cell phone while I was en route from Amoeba Music, after working my shift, to our home in the Miracle Mile, via bus. Cut to me sitting on the kitchen floor with my back against the washing machine and wailing about how “I can’t understand why I don’t do the things I want to do” – a very vague thing to be upset about, but which makes more sense if you’ve been in a romantic relationship with me for four years (which I highly recommend!).
It’s difficult to parlay all this internal drama into a light and entertaining blog regarding music and/or cinema. I find it almost impossible to be dishonest with people, and since you always seem to fit in this category, this includes you. Where does that leave this blog entry?
I don’t know. I don’t have a mix-tape of “stuff to listen to when you feel gross down to your soul,” nor can I recommend any movies that are fun to watch when you feel like you’ll never amount to anything and so, why should you even bother continuing on in a world that is so much work?
In these cases, more than music or movies, what one needs are good friends who know you very well, boyfriends that are patient and generous, mothers who are unconditionally loving and unwilling to believe you’re mediocre, sisters with a background in social work, a quarter tab of xanax, and a blanket. I have all these things, so I’m sure I will be okay.
But again – what will I listen to and watch?
In the last 24 hours, the answer, I’ve found, is this…