Thursday, April 23, 2015

On Returning




(This post is unrelated to Wire)


It makes no sense. Something's wrong with me. I spent the better part of yesterday coming home from NYC, a long subway ride leading up to a much longer flight and then a bus ride to long term parking and then the hour+ drive home. I get here and go straight to sleep. Three hours later, wide awake.

I only wished to return to the gym this morning, but no... My body is determined to ruin me. 

I slept pretty well in NYC. More than six hours most nights. I get here and I'm restless. It's maddening. As I was falling asleep last night, exhausted from a full day of traveling I even considered setting my alarm, something I never need to do. It's just stupid. It drives me nuts. Truly, it keeps me from sanity. My wits are always just beyond my grasp.


Home again... I will pick the boy up from school today and we'll have some time together. It is what I look forward to most. 

My life is difficult and painful right now. If you've been reading here at all you would know. That same life seems simple and complete when I'm with the boy. It's something that I need to be careful of. CS has warned me of the dangers of single parenting. The child becomes the most important, or perhaps only, thing in your life and you weight the relationship too heavily with your own needs and expectations. I can feel it happening, and worry about it, but am not quite sure what to do.

Travel, I guess. Give myself other things to do for a while until some sense of self returns and replaces the empty sense of heartache and loneliness. Yes, heartache and loneliness, that's what I am feeling right now, alone in the middle of the night there is only the ghost of failed love.

It will pass, of course, but it's a mother-fucker when you awake to it and that is all that there seems to be, without cessation. You stare into it and expect an answer, none arrives. There is just the witless emptiness mocking the witless emptiness within you.

I need a girlfriend, or a cat, or a girlfriend with a single cat. I don't mean a cat that is available. I mean having only one feline, etc. Though I don't feel like flirting much right now. The entire time in NYC I was staring at women, intently, trying to detect if any blood was rushing to my testicles but there was nothing. That's how you know if you like somebody. You can feel it starting in the genitals as a tingling sensation. Tender love, it's how you know.


I just went to check the mail after having been gone a week and the mailbox was packed with letters from debt collectors for the previous resident. It's mostly all I ever get, though a friend from Holland did ask for my address recently so some genuine correspondence might arrive soon. That will be a novelty. I'll need to buy a fountain pen to write him back.

Ah well, certainly people don't come here to explore the misery of another. It will pass. It always does. I'll read some Celine tonight to take my mind off of things.

I was able to catch up with some friends in NYC, thankfully. A family there is relocating to Hong Kong which will give me a reason to take the twelve hour flight from San Francisco. 

Soon, I hope.

I have considered selling all of my stock and traveling for a little while. I don't think that I would regret it very much. I could even take the boy with me on some trips. I like having the imaginary money floating around out there though and would probably miss it when it was gone, watching it rise and fall with the world market. The thought of sitting still and doing nothing, waiting for nothing, exacts its toll on me also.

I just searched for my copy of Waiting for Godot and found it next to Murphy. Perhaps Beckett is a safer bet to read right now, to keep my mind light and airy, free from concerns.

What, oh what, will arrive to haunt me next.







.