stardustcboy's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ...The Bus Ride Home... "i like getting on at the beginning of the line...less people. i get the pick of seats. i like this one, the one on the right side just after the handicap seats. not many people, maybe 1...2...3...4...8 maybe 10. it's quiet. that guy looks tired. he's holding his head like it weighs a thousand tons...looks like it hurts. man, you look just like i feel. i feel like this is purgatory. it's dark beyond the windows...white-blue flourescent lights inside...must be what limbo looks like...feels like. the bus is going somewhere...heaven maybe? the afterlife? another life? outside is the yawning nothingness of hell...of oblivion. all you have is time to think...think about your life and what you've done. no one talks to you, no one is talking...all lost in thought...inside their day...or the memory of their day...their lives. well, except for the two spanish ladies jabbering behind me. i wish i could speak spanish. i wish i could speak all sorts of languages. if i had time i'd learn every single one. i could communicate with everyone...convey ideas and thoughts to all peoples...feh...what use is that? no one listens. i like that song. if there's anything i've learned it's that no one listens. they hear what they want. 'selective hearing' like my dad used to say. there's no point. it's probably better that i don't understand...they'd probably be talking about the same banal shit that everyone else does...gossip...bullshit...or not. eh, i'm just being judgemental. ... the bus always smells funny. it's familiar now that i think about it...antiseptic...like cleaning agents...like the stainless steel polish i used when i worked at United Artist theatres in colorado. shit. that was...wow...13 years ago...14. man i hated that assistant manager. Dina...what a fucking bitch. man, i remember when she would make me reclean the bathrooms because i dribble water on the sink edge. just a few drops and she'd make me clean the whole thing. cunt. whatever happened to her i wonder? she had way too much pent up sexual aggression. she needed some cock...or pussy...whatever her flavor. it was always suspect. maybe she wanted me? eew. some people need to lighten up. she was way too tense. a control freak. she hated me. i could tell by the way she looked at me...it was so cold it burned. like she wished nothing more than to see me erased. hehehe. it didn't matter that's the funny thing. all that control. 13 years later...that theatre is no more. it's a church now (like everything else in colorado)...ironic...the worst kind of control...which one is worse? eesh. i guess it's like Mark Driver said, 'there are two types of people in this world...those who demand life, and those who demand control. who's side are you on?' i'm on the side of life. what is life? change, evolution, adaptation, survival until you die. yeah, that's about it. or at least...that's my slant on it. in the end it doesn't matter. like the theatre and dina...it all changes...there is no control... ... what magazine is she reading? PEOPLE. ugh. celebrity gossip my favorite. why do people care? why does PEOPLE make us care? Disappearing Act interesting headline...next to a picture of jessica simpson. what a nitwit. what am i saying...maybe she's a really complex and intricate person? hm...aren't we all? i wish i could disappear sometimes. just...vanish. without a trace. *poof* i've done it before, i could do it again. it's easy really. just go and don't ever look back...leave no trace...no evidence. then nothing can follow you...no one...well...save for your own demons. they follow you everywhere. Curing Lance's Lab who is that? lance? as in armstrong? i think that's a picture of him. what? did his lab have cancer now? i probably have cancer...i wish i was his lab...any dog would be nice...or a cat...or an eagle...or a dolphin...anything but human. we suck and we're dumb. the animals got it right. they are what they are, they accept it and their role in it. humans fight it. sometimes i feel like an alien. i feel so alienated sometimes. so lonely...like this bus ride. left only to my own thoughts that i doubt anyone really understands...what am i talking about? i'm being whiney...you want some cheese with that? still...sometimes i wish that i could just blend in and be like so many other people...conformist...conventional...traditional. it would make life a lot easier...or would it? look at these people...seemingly mundane...none of them really look happy...they look tired. i think we're all just tired. man, society blows sometimes...but then what? anarchy? freedom IS anarchy...true freedom. i think that scares people. that's why Bush is in office. people want to be free but not 'that free'...that want a measure of freedom but not the whole deal...just enough to make them feel like they have a choice, but not enough that they'd make the wrong choices... ... UCLA campus. look at all these kids. man, so young, so vibrant. i remember then. it seems like forever ago that i was in college, strangely it wasn't THAT long ago...7 years maybe? i remember how it was though...the sense of newness...of youth. learning and exploring and experimenting. i miss that. i feel old. i'm not that old though...i'd like to learn new things...like spanish or how to paint better...painting techniques, stuff like that. the everyday is such a distraction though. no wonder we're all tired and sad...no time...always working...social pressures...partial freedoms... ... i like temples and churches. they way the look, the granduer. i remember when i went to temple with ali...wore a yamika...it was funny...but kind of cool too. ... the bus is full now. who's this guy sitting next to me? he's young...sounds israeli...hehehe...he's talkin' to a chick you can tell. the way he fidgets. the low 'sexy talk voice'...must be some girl he just met...but i can tell he likes her, i can taste the tension. aaah young love...butterflies, cinnamon buns, fuzzy puppies, gum-drop smiles, night after endless night of rabid animalistic sex...that's the fun stuff... *sigh* man, Bellagio...wealthy neighborhood. who lives in these places? does anyone REALLY LIVE in these massive homes? several million dollars i'm sure. they look like museums. i remember going to that party up in simi with tom...man that place was huge...but...empty. not in that it was unfurnished but...unlived in. i wonder if there are whole rooms that they hardly ever use? i wonder if they're happier with a massive museum-house? does it improve their lives? would it improve mine? i can't conceive of that kind of money...probably why i'm doomed to never make it...i'll just be a middle-class american like my folks...until the middle class dissolves that is...then revolution. hehe...it's a romantic thought at least. whipe the slate clean...set it all to zero...everyone is equal... we're doomed. ... back to the PEOPLE magazine. an article on sheryl crow...i like her...if it makes you happy, it can't be that bad, if it makes you happy, why the hell are you so sad? i like that song too. the woman reading it looks like OpiumFine. i wonder how she's doin'? man, i've been neglecting too many people...i should make some calls. why? why am i so despondant and introverted lately? that's not me...i miss them...i totally miss them...i guess i'm tired. soon i'll have alienated everyone. then what? i should make some calls... ... man, the valley from sepulveda blvd. is always a site. all those lights...like gems on black velvet...like all the stars in heaven fell to earth and nestled among the streets and thoroughfares of man...sparkling...shimmering... ... wait, the route is different. they closed ventura blvd. so they have to go a different way. down sepulveda and not on the freeway like usual. hmm...life is like that sometimes. there are regular routes and there are hidden routes and there are the routes less taken. in the end you want to get from point A to point B...in this case westwood and wilshire to where i live...home...home...we all want to go home. figuratively and literally... ... aaah, passing the encino house. good times there. lots of parties. lots of people. got a little wild though...a little...uh...hehe...'out of control'... i kinda' miss those ragers though...partying all night...dancing...i'm too old for that shit now. or maybe i'm not? it's all in my head...but it does take its toll. maybe that's growing old? your idea of fun changes...or maybe you just stop having fun? ugh...i hope it's the former and not the latter...i should make some calls... ... i should write all this down. it would make an interesting entry...like...25 minutes inside my head or something. just random, but yet not really random. i'm just runnin' around inside my brain really. trying to figure it all out, how it fits, what i should do, what should be done, and how i should adapt to it...like everything. i'm glad she told him, moreover i'm glad that he was all right with it...'the truth will set you free' they say...let's hope so...i guess all i can do is wait now...wait and see... ... baja fresh. man, i'm hungry...a steak burrito sounds good...or steak tacos...yeah. mmm. i wonder what grade JeLLy got on her test? why hasn't she called, she should have had a break by...oh yeah. duh. she forgot her phone at home. that sucks. it would have made the ride less lonely. Aah's...that reminds me...what do i want to be for halloween? am i even going to do anything for halloween? at this point? well...anyway, if i DO do something then i should figure out what to be. a cop? JeLLy suggested that...might be cool...gotta' get a legit cop uniform thoug...i'm too fat for my old one. ugh. fatass. i feel my belly jiggling with each bump of the bus...that's not a good sign. what else? a crazy marylin manson style raggedy andy? that would be neat...but only if JeLLy dressed up as a similar raggedy anne...she's going to be a pirate. we'll probably party at piratemow's place... ... i can't wait to build with LEGO. i'm getting somewhere with this one. feel good about it. something about making something with my hands. building something from nothing. i deep sense of reward and accomplishment. most people would probably call me childish to be building with LEGO at my age...eh, fuck 'em. keeps me young right? maybe it'll even prevent alzheimer's? won't prevent cancer though. ... almost home. hey! what the hell? the bus doesn't stop at my street anymore? dammit, i'm going to have to walk all the way back. sucks. ... well, like anything else i guess you can't just teleport from A to B...gotta' walk it. hehehe...makes the beer taste all the better when i get home...the reward at the end of the journey...the light at the end of the tunnel... it's the little things that count." ~B-) 7:54 p.m. - 2005-10-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||