clarification

I'm not saying 'goodbye' to the blog.

It's just that the personal writing has been picking up lately. It began with some fits and starts but now I am in the process of writing for myself regularly again, making the blog excursions less intimate but still a necessary boon to my sanity, which is questionable at best.

Neptune is in Aquarius, along with Saturn and Uranus. This causes some crazy cosmic commotion thingy that shatters illusions and breaks new ground. I guess the last time there was a trifecta with the three aforementioned planets was in 1989, when the Berlin Wall came down and the protests in Tianamen Square were all the rage.

I guess things are going to get interesting around here very soon, and I want to be prepared.

I started running again, for at least 20 minutes a day. At first I was running with Daniel, but he threw out his back and now I'm reduced to running solo. It's not as fun but at least the initial runs with Daniel got me motivated to continue. I thought I would need to quit smoking but instead I find that I am just smoking less, and I'm not coughing up nasty phlegm in the mornings anymore.

I've reduced my pot-smoking to tolerable levels. However, I still like it. I have always entertained the notion of eating it instead of smoking it, but that remains to be seen.

I am addicted to Vitamin Water... I mean, like, ADDICTED. It's soooo good. I was never the type for super-sugary Kool-Aid or fruit punch-- I always watered my shit down because it tasted better. Now it's been bottled for me with plenty o' vitamins and only 13 grams of sugar, which is nothing compared to the average can of Coke.

Speaking of coke, I haven't done it in a while. That's another good thing too.

I am eating healthier, but I still love an occasional burger-and-fries combo from In-N-Out. I think the exercise-- coupled with the yoga and the power walks --is more important than what I am eating, because I had a terrible diet for years and only recently started having problems keeping the weight off.

These damned cushy jobs, corrupting my carriage and making me doughy and soft... I need to move, to walk around, lug equipment, jump around on stage, like the other night where I played in both of my bands in Los Feliz. I wasn't nervous at all, but to be honest I didn't really get warmed up until the second set.

I've been drawing stuff too. In addition to the web comic I am developing very soon, I found something that changed my whole view on comic strips in general: SCAN by Scott Bateman, a political cartoonist with a unique and novel approach to comic-book narratives. I found this book (or rather it found me) at Daniel and Laurie's apartment in the pool area while we were barbecuing last weekend-- someone was throwing it out.

And of course, the novel is steadily moseying along like some fattened turtle ready to spew eggs into the beach shore. Laurie footnoted the fuck out of Book I, and I am in the process of deciphering the dense code of Book II. I say 'dense code' because the original file was saved to floppy disk (!) in an old obsolete Microsoft program, and the data transfer converted some of it into a Matrix-style html jumble.

Finally, I bought an acoustic guitar with electric pick-ups from Ellen, whom I will not be playing with again. I just cannot support her anymore. I did it all as a favor to Holly, but Holly is gone and she isn't coming back. Ellen's music is bland and mediocre, and I figure that I can do a better job writing stuff for my own music rather than helping someone who doesn't have a clue.

That's what I meant by the New Start: I have accidentally concocted a life for myself. The new job helps me finance these endeavors, and I am making progress.

So, with all this creativity going on, why am I still totally unhappy?


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My horoscope, when mentioning the Neptune-Saturn-Uranus connection, asked me to think about where I was and what I was doing around this time in 1989.

I know exactly where I was and what I was doing: I had just graduated from the 9th grade and was going into my sophomore year, which also happened to be my first year of high school.

My hair was long and matted, and my attitude was just as ratty. I showed up at the high school orientation with disdain in my heart. I was going to re-invent myself as the poet Fabian Rourke, the hyper-critical super-intellectual bad-boy of the Magnet school set.

I said 'goodbye' to all of my middle school friends. A few of them had come along with me to the Humanities curriculum but I was going to strike out on my own. I had no classes with any of my past acquaintances, and I was determined to start anew.

I did.

What's funny is that I didn't need my horoscope to force me to look back on that depressing, transitional year. I always look back on those days as a reference point. The novel I am completing is firmly rooted in the midst of those days.

But now I look at it with a different perspective, because back then I didn't realize that there were cosmic forces at work, determining which paths would be available to me. I don't believe in astrology so much as I defer to it, thinking that there is maybe a bit of relevance left in the near-dead pseudo-science. I don't think you can forecast anything with any degree of accuracy, but the personality types are always dead-on, and I just like the idea that the systems of the universe cut through the force of gravity and influence our behavior right here on this green planet.

I am knee-deep in serendipities, culminating in an explanation I gave to two friends of mine yesterday. I told them that I see signs everywhere, pointing to different themes and thoughts and expressions and concepts in my mind. Over the course of a few days I make mental notes of the events of my life with these imaginary projections emphasized for dramatic effect; those eventually turn into stories and poems and blog entries for me.

I see life as a story waiting to be told, unfolding in front of me, and only I have the clarity and presence of mind to tap into the moment and draw the narratives out of thin air.


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This opportunity to refresh the internet browser of my existence has me excited, and although I am not happy at least I know I am in a position to achieve it on my own.

I have been shunning old friends, reaching out to new faces. I have spent a lot of time in the past five months trapped inside my head, held hostage my emotions and heartaches, tied to the stake of my own personal baggage.

I couldn't talk to anyone about it. No one was there that I could trust with it. No one wanted to hear it, because they have their own problems to attend to, just like 17 years ago, when my peers couldn't understand why I was taking my parents' divorce so badly... the difference now is that I am older and less helpless-- I can do something about it. I don't have to retreat into my own head and try to escape. I can be up front about it right in the open, without fear.

I endure.

I don't need to be judged, forgiven, or pitied. I just need to keep doing what I do. I may not be happy, but that's because I know that true happiness is hard work-- it doesn't come easy. If it seems too good to be true, then it is.

And yet, for all my misery and unhappiness, I am having fun at the same time. A contradiction? No, because the fun is to keep me from thinking about my unhappiness. Dwelling on the pain, trying to explain it, attempting to rationally analyze it... that's counter-productive. It's only when the gig is over, or when the night has ended and everyone is ready to go home and sleep it off, it's during those moments when I am suddenly confronted by my monstrous double, my evil twin, the dark side of my soul.

I sit and dine with the Devil every day, and he is lousy company. I'd rather be out and about, chasing dreams and making an ass of myself. It beats feeling defeated and lost. It beats settling for less. It beats the false promise of comfort or the dead isolation of the modern couple.

At least for now, it beats all else.

Have a nice weekend.