dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Thursday, September 14, 2017

music promises, dog tolerance, bar panic, Cornish food, what crazy means

Hey, friends.  It's almost my birthday.  My friend R is supposed to play a set, and my friend V is supposed to come and play too.  I hope it's a fun night for a lot of people.

Last night we visited A at his apartment.  And his dogs Clara, Buttons, and Wolf Mother.  And his cat Padfoot.  The dogs are a lot for me to put up with.  But eventually I pet them.

A showed us books, played music for us, talked with us as it got dark.  I borrowed a Carlos Castaneda book.  I had heard of him but never read him.  I read the first page and a half there, but it was too dark to see well.

I wanted to dance but never got inspired.

I didn't get a massage, but it was soul nourishing anyway.  I liked the eye contact, body language, and hugs.  Oh, we played with a singing bowl.   I was happy to make it sing.

Then Ming and I went to this zine release party.  It was at a bar and awkward.  The band was so loud.  I was worried it was damaging my hearing, but there was something appealing about the vibrations hitting my body.  We were supposed to meet R there but he arrived an hour and a half after we left.

I got to buy the zine and it was fun to do something really different though I just about panicked right before we walked in.  "A narcoleptic and a schizophrenic walk into a bar."  Doesn't it sound like a joke?

Then we went to Cornish Pasty where I got mushroom, spinach, walnut soup and bread with extra bread, what a deal.  Ming got the Veggie Oggie and some baked beans.  It was kind of dark there and I enjoyed the tunes.

Now I'm up in the middle of the night.  I have to agonize over my social interactions, like at the bar where I met a couple people and drank my grapefruit juice through a thin black straw, txting with my friend A about faults and language and what crazy means.


Post a Comment

<< Home