Worked all day, yet accomplished very little, and don’t really care. I am utterly joyless. I don’t know what I need or want. I don’t want to call anyone. I don’t want to self-medicate. I don’t want anything. I don’t want to be here. I want to be far, far away from here. I want to be four years old again, chasing my cousin around the grandparents’ house with a toy gun.
I want my dog to be alive again and I want to go sit with him in the back yard and watch the bees on the dandelions and feel the summer wind coming off the lake while I pretend that every kid’s dog lives forever.
I can’t find the right tune. It isn’t any Malaria tune, and it isn’t anything by Neubauten or SY or Alice or DAF, either. I have all this cynical, synthetic, bleak music. But I don’t feel bleak, I just feel… left behind, like when all your friends went out without you on a Saturday night and you only found out by calling around, and so you had to sit at home with your parents and admit that even though you were a crazy fucking teenager, you weren’t yet an adult. Only now I’m an adult.
I used to keep a really beautiful, natural aquarium with just a few small fish and tons and tons of space full of living plants for them to swim and play in. And I would watch them play. But Je—- killed them all or something when she moved. Now I feel responsible for their deaths.
I want to go back to the Britannia warehouse and sit around drinking with Harmir in our Bekins trucking shirts. I want to go back to Brookings and be stuck again with nothing to do, waiting for car repairs and wondering what’s happening in the outside world.
I want to stand at the edge of the Pacific and say an atheist’s prayer.
Old Host, I miss you. You always believed in me. What should I be doing right now?