no struggle, no progress
t-minus three and a half days before I get the fuck outta dodge...like, yay.
I got an e-mail from delta about their new boarding policies...the airlines are on straight fort knox status now. I remember flying back into new york two days after september 11...I'm sure meeting the president requires less security. ah well...I don't feel any more or less safe now then I did before...if its my time to go there isn't much I can do about it. I tell those I love how I feel on a constant basis...so I'll go with a smile as my man jack nicholson said in batman. life is fresh for the pimpin.
this is like the slowest week of my life...it seems everything moves in matrixian bullet time when something big like a vacation is coming...its even worse cause I'm anticipating spending a week straight with christopher. waiting, though, is like swimming through peanut butter...not that I'd know what that was like but I'm hungry and a sammich would hit the spot right about now. bashir's coming into town this evening to take me to dinner though, so that, as they say in the illadelph, is whats up, early...I love my cipher like a fat kid love cake...I wouldn't survive without them. I'm always late meeting bashir at port authority so I'm attempting to wrap this up and start getting ready soon. theres something wrong with the part of my brain that oversees punctuality...so today the plan is to imagine his bus gets in at 4:30 and not 5...I have to trick myself into being punctual. sad.
I've decided to immerse myself in my work and my art...I guess there is something personally romantic about being maniacally inspired by loneliness...how you like them adverbs...I know other artists agree...its like that whole starving artist ideal. its something to reminisce on later when you're deliriously successful. "remember when I was stuck in an apartment with a leaking ceiling and I was lonely and I wasn't sure exactly what rabbit I'd pull out of a hat to pay my rent? haha, those were the days, pool boy, now rub me with tanning oil at once"...
I read a quote on a messageboard that said "he who works like slave eats like a king"...I imagine thats probably accurate. coming up as a shorty I watched my father work late into the night on a constant basis...I saw his difficulties managing a staff...I felt the effects of his company and his income ebbing and flowing...some years were very sweet (which meant more toys for christmas...what a shallow child I was), some not so much...but mostly hes lived a stressful life. he's given himself ulcers, worried himself into a stroke and a heartattack, smoked himself into chronic bronchitis...the world of self-employment can be a monster that devours your quality time, your health, your precious sanity...but if I have to work like a slave to eat like a king, at least I'm working for myself. in a way it keeps me all the more focused as there is no steady bi-montly paycheck to rely on. my father asks me every now and then why, after watching the hardships he's gone through with his own business, I'd choose to follow in his proverbial footsteps...I say "because its all I know"...
the downside is that I work so much I sometimes get disconnected from the so-called outside world...I'm sitting here writing out the envelope for my rent check wondering exactly how much postage is now...I don't even know. I remember when stamps were a quarter...that sure was convenient.
so as you can see I have nothing more to realy add besides its a joyous day when I get to go outside in the daytime...tuesday down, only wednesday and thursday to go...