This afternoon I was sorting through a bunch of notebooks and papers I have packed away in boxes. I really wonder why I do this stuff. For a few years at a time, I store every loose piece of paper that comes my way and throw it into different piles, which then eventually make it into a box, which then gets stuck into a closet. Eventually I decide I need to clean stuff up and I sort through it. Inevitably, I throw most of it away. There are always the dreaded exceptions. I run into stuff I’ve written over the years. I have never kept it in any kind of order. Most of what I’ve written, be it so-called journal entries, music reviews, short stories, whatever, finds itself unfinished on random bits of paper, or in the middle of mostly empty notebooks and for some unknown reason, I keep it. I always run into something that makes me think that maybe I can finish, or improve upon, and there’s also the stuff that catches my attention because it is so damn pathetic and because it reflects something written exactly ten years ago. What was I doing ten years ago? Let’s find out:
“May 23rd, 2000
What the hell am I doing? Someone gives me a tiny little notebook with tiny paper and I start writing a bunch of embarrassing and humiliating crap about how damn lonely I feel and what girl I have a crush on at that particular moment. Luckily, I haven’t done this much over the years. Just to get it over with, the crush is on *name withheld*. She’s way younger than me, we have essentially nothing in common (it’s debatable if I have anything in common with any woman I find attractive) and real bad for me. She’s real bad for me, because I am so damn crazy for her. I do not need to be sent over the edge with crazy, but damn she’s got me.
This tiny book is too small to write in. It’s absurd. Why would anyone buy such a thing?
Currently, I am listening to a Czech band named The Ecstasy of Saint Theresa. My hope right now is to inspire myself to write. Not write this nonsense, but to be creative and write. I need to find a way to pull myself out of this nosedive I’ve been on since like 1979. This Friday I get to go in and find out how my kidneys are doing. Can’t wait for that! I wonder when this tenuous streak of 7 years of no surgeries will end. The docs never sound encouraging, but they’ve let me go this far. I’m also wondering about this headache I’ve had for like a week now. I’m pretty used to headaches, but this one has not wavered in its intensity. That doesn’t seem right. Maybe I’m stressing out about the check up. I have always been right in my (giant) gut about when the news will be bad with these things and it is screaming this time. But, hey, after the check-up, Ryan and I are driving off to Black Butte to play golf for the holiday weekend. Could this be the last time I have a golf weekend? I really need to enjoy it. Treat it like it could be my last. Take in everything like a breath of fresh air, instead of getting so damn angry at my continual bad play. I really should give golf up. I should give up most things. I’d be better off.
Maybe I’ll write some music reviews tonight. I’ve been considering starting up the ‘zine again; Wil and I have been talking about putting it online. If I start writing something, then maybe the motivation to find an audience will increase. I should give him a call. That’s a good way to feel like I’m making progress without actually writing. That is solid stuff there.
There is so much in the air right now. I can sense something big on the horizon, but it is elusively just out of reach. I don’t know what it is, nor can I tell if it’s good or bad, it’s just there. It’s almost tangible. It’s been teasing me with its tempting draw of major change, but not giving me any clues. Maybe it’s the upcoming useless work trip to Vegas, I think *name withheld* is going too. At any rate, I cannot wait to find out what this big thing is! Strange things are definitely afoot. I mean I had that weird Laker fan girl making moves on me at the Blazer game last week. At least Ryan said she was picking up on me. I cannot read women at all. But, boy, oh, boy, something needs to happen! The sad truth is that nothing has really changed in my life since like ’88. I’m just more scared and somehow more jaded. Life is so funny, isn’t it?”
Looks like nothing has really changed. Nice. I was right about one thing though. There was big change ahead, I was just dreading the wrong thing going wrong. That headache was being caused by a cyst the size of a navel orange sitting smack dab in the middle of my brain stem. Life sure is funny.