my head is full of flowers and I'm dressed in shining gold...

People complain about the rain but I think of all those places where the rain doesn't fall, and how there are little green shoots coming up all over the garden, and a bag of potting soil on my back porch that's now waterlogged and simply too heavy to haul up the stairs.

And I think about how now the rain is warm, and I walked last night to the coffeeshop to study for a final for a class where I could completely flunk the last test and still pass, and came home and piled up music for this morning's show which bounced a little bit all over the place but not as much as it could have and are below in no particular order.

caffeination

Me and neighbor planted potatoes last night in a giant sterilite bin from target because trash cans are expensive, and then I went to the Kentinistas' for rifftraxing of the godawful Star Wars Holiday Special which was astounding in its wtfery. 

A morning of dogwalking and garden stuff, and bike riding to sportsball and getting on base more in one game than I did all of last season, scoring the winning run and feeling awesome, celebrating with gyros up the street before heading out to a friend's wedding when I drank way too much coffee and got profoundly existential by the end of the night thinking about human interactions and the fleetingness of infatuation juxtaposed with the professions of undying love. My body is tired by my brain's still firing like crazy. 

The direction of the eye, so misleading...

It's the end of April and seeds are being sown in the garden, I go down there at sunset and listen to the hum of the neighborhood, and there's girl-time and movie time and coming home to be introverted. The garden is a continual place of centering for me, a continual learning process and a way to feel like I'm doing some good with my time on this earth.

I reread my journal over the last year that I write in every so often and it amazes me to see how wrecked I was that summer four years ago and how even the emotional rollercoaster of not the most healthy relationship wasn't much of anything compared to that, I don't know what means. But I have become profoundly comfortable with solitude, of sleeping alone, of coming home to an empty house in a way I never dreamed I would.

When I see what other people say, how they want someone to complete them, that their life is terrible without that special person, I don't understand that, because no person can do that, meet those emotional needs all the time.  We all have our moments of loneliness, but I am not lacking when it comes to companionship with kindred souls and that's a beautiful thing.

of gyros, brawls, records, and resurrections

Things that happened this weekend.

driving around running errands, listening to Subrosa with a fellow lover of big riffs who's not so much a friend so much as an enjoyable occasional acquaintance because we only hang out when circumstantials bring us together but when they do we have a great time.

Worked Record Store Day again this year and marveled at the weirdness, got paid in vinyl and was introduced to this fine band.

Ate gyros and skipped stones at the metroparks with the Kentinistas, listened to Creedence, basked in the sun, plotted future summer adventures mostly involving baseball games and MST3K nights.

 Hung out with family.
Found out there was a pretty big melee up the street from me thanks to some crazy-ass hardcore youth crew kids, not, as the commentariat on the local media newsrag suggests, "death metal wannabe thugs and their groupies." Sad that Metalsucks has a better summary than the local news outlet. Somehow end up on an 80's hardcore kick anyway even though my days of those kinds of pits are far behind me.

Me and Neighbor heard about the incident via the cops at our favorite diner, decided to drive past the aftermath, being all nosy and making Warriors and Outsiders jokes because no one got killed as far as his Spacephone told us and there were a bunch of straightedge kids carrying on a scene that I came late to ten years ago but they still like all those bands with the breakdowns. The party antics of The Supersuckers opening for the Toadies promoted a more traditional rock and roll lifestyle and Eddie Spaghetti live comes across as Lemmy Via Texas and it was fantastic even if we were all the way in the back and the crowd was mostly there for the headliner and wasn't sure what this tongue-in-cheekness was all about.

Sunday morning I wished I was in a better mood playing songs but such is life. Came home and slept on the porch, went to the folks' and ate too much, came home and slept early. Monday doesn't feel so bad.

needled

I didn't know him that well, but he was always nice to me, we never had any deep conversations, he was a friendly face at family gatherings, sometimes I'd run into him out and about, he was dating my sister-in-law, he was the one that got my sister to the help she needed and then out of nowhere I get a phone call that he's dead at 22, that it was heroin, and I redact an impulsive bit of internet sadness and decide to grieve and process here pseudonymously and feel guilty a bit for being so raw and just want a hug and to be able to cry because I'm sick of watching everyone destroy themselves and I can't even understand it because it's never been the struggle for me.

It was so beautiful outside when I got home and I sat on the balcony and sobbed and texted my sister to see how she's holding up because I'm afraid she will relapse too. I felt strangely alone, and I just wanted to be around someone, anyone who'd remind me that this world isn't always cold and sad and get frustrated when the people who will vent all their sadnesses to me are distant when it comes to my own. I wouldn't have to talk about it too much, I just want the comfort of presence, for empathy, for a shoulder to cry on, but sometimes it seems like I'm asking for too much. 

 I had commitments that night to practice for the Easter morning service at church and I go there and break down again, because it's safe there, it's where people in my world have known me long enough to know all sides of me, and there's enough hugs and listening ears that I feel better even if I don't stay for the entire thing and retreat to the lake where I sat in the darkness watching the water swirl and silently poured out my thoughts and questions to God before heading home. It was good enough for my soul that I was able to fall asleep, and I realized last night who the ones I can lean on are, and maybe that's a good thing to know those things.

I don't really want to go anywhere tonight for Good Friday.  I don't really want to spend time with family members. It's hard to celebrate the concept of resurrection when death feels so real. I don't even know what I want, just that things feel sad right now and the world just feels too heavy.

cathartic sonic

I went to sleep early last night, passed out on the couch, not bothering to cook dinner, maybe it was the rain, who knows, and it was too cloudy to see any awesome astronomic phenomena.

I played music this morning though, and this time it veered a little more heavy, but I make the listeners happy, which is always good.

 

the warmth

Hovering between fits of melancholia over tea and moments of utter bliss was this weekend. I'm considering seeing what kind of supplements or what-have-you are worth taking because I get weirded out by serious meds and most of the time it really isn't all that bad.

I'm sure part of it has to do with some draining interactions this past week, of lonely seniors and those on the road to sobriety whose perceptions are profoundly clouded. You're judgmental, you really don't like me and just pretend to. And if I didn't like someone, I sure as heck wouldn't bother trying to meet up with them because I make time for the people I love. Also, evidently others don't see it that way, because evidently I'm just so chill that it's okay to cancel plans for bullshit reasons and then mumble 'sorry' and pass the buck to you when you call them on said bullshit. I'm cool with forgiveness, but I also believe in making clear that I don't expect much, and basic common courtesy of keeping your word and not blaming me for your bad behavior is pretty basic.

But I played tunes on the air this weekend, played requested Sleep and Opeth and The Sword and other duderific riffy tunes for the Saturday night masses. Got back in touch with an old homie who I haven't seen in almost a year thanks to his work schedule and seasonal ennui.



I forget the ease of our friendship, the way that we don't have to do much but just be together, and we spent a Sunday afternoon walking down to the lake, drinking smoothies on the jetty, eating ice cream on the pier and people-watching before taking the long way back to my neighborhood. It felt like summer, us in t-shirts, everyone being friendly to us in a part of town where interracial tends to bring more smiles than dirty looks.

I came home and cleaned off the balcony, talked on the phone with one of the neighbors and revelled in the warm breezes coming through my windows. It's cold again today but for everything I lose, I always seem to gain something else and that's strange and beautiful.