Famous Blue Raincoat

Of new beginnings and old procedures.

eaquity — Fri, 16 Apr 2010 11:58:42 +0000

I was sitting on the floor next to my bed, curled up, forehead against the mattress.
On the bed was my girlfriend, an old friend. She was holding my hand and kissing it lightly.
On my back was a very young persian kitty, lying curled up on my shoulders.
Every once in a while she’d nudge my cheek with her forehead and go back to blissfull sleep.

And so, for a few minutes today, i found peace.

It’s a strange world i live in. Me and not you.
If there’s one thing i’ve never bothered doubting it’s that reality is subjective. Our conditions for contentness, even more so.
It finds me in the most peculiar of places. It surprises me time and time again, and what it has going for it is that it always finds me without prejudice or malice; simple enough if i ignore the fact that sweeping your resentment under the rug is like asking god to prove he exists – it’s a valid request, but maybe you’re missing the point.

The facts are that i have a steady job. It has it’s ups and downs and i’m thinking of quitting but i’m not ungrateful.
I left my grandmother’s house, much as i had left my mother – with pain and resentment and a stinging sense of betrayal. Then i came to, realising that it’s my mother’s mother. I’m surprised it took this long.
I moved with a work partner to a five room penthouse with a 120 square meters of open roof, a beautiful view and my own piece of heaven on earth, who’s images are to be found on my facebook page if any of you is interested.

It’s me, my partner, my partner’s partner and his screaming girlfriend (hell, that girl is LOUD!), a puppy and a kitty.
Theres beer in the fridge and no food for the most part, we have an xbox360 and a Playstation 2 connected to a 52″ screen but no telephone, the fridge door won’t close and for some ill-begotten reason the past couple of days see a hangman’s noose hanging from the top floor’s rails to the middle of the living room. Someone must have thought it funny.
Personally, i think its hillarious.

I love it here.

I’m enrolling in a university this July. Computer sciences, though the first year is mostly math. I’m terrified.
Sometimes i speak with my mother. Sometimes i don’t even feel phony doing it.
I sleep a lot.

My girlfriend is sleeping on the floor.
When i asked her what’s wrong with the bed she said the music sounds better from here. Irepress is playing.
She has been my best friend this past year, and now we’ve decided it’s time to commit, i guess. It feels more like a natural extension than a switch to me.
She has huge, brown eyes and a semi-kawaii demeanor.
I find it lovely.

Irepress are done. 45 minutes of wild beauty prove that the good stuff is always short, if only because you always wish you had more.
Now its Russian Circles’ Geneva. The song is called ‘When the Mountain Comes To Muhammad’, and i remember i always needed to find some reference to my life in song titles, especially when i was writing. Always needed to find a reason and a purpose.

I also remember my dearest is lying on the floor besides me.
Then i get the hell off of the computer and go give her some overdue attention.

Detention chronicles. (14/3/08)

eaquity — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 19:09:34 +0000

I’ll approach her. Invite her to come sit with me.
I’ll tell her i know she doesn’t have anything better to do, and that if it weren’t for us computer techies, she’d be bored silly -
and think of how proud my teasing her would make paratrooper boy, thinking i’m picking up to pace with his book of romantic abominations.

I’d get around to telling her being out by 1200 is the good life, and ask her what she does with all that free time.
She’ll look at me funny, and i’ll say i’m just preparing her to me asking if she wants to go out with me.
She’ll stare blankly for a second, and i’ll stick my tongue out at her, looking like a moron,
making her laugh.

Making her laugh will always have been such a rewarding process.

Of course she’ll go out with me.
I’ll get excited over music. She’ll like that, though she’ll find the actual music difficult.
A few hours later we’ll be discussing something and shell say something is ‘charming’ again,
and i’ll look at her with wide eyes and tell her she’s unbearable.
she’ll ask why and i’ll kiss her on the forehead.
She’l be confused, smiling vividly without looking away.

She’ll utter a puzzled ‘what?..’, and i’ll say it’s nothing relevant and move on.

We’ll both be spread on our backs, naked, and i’ll tell her she’s pretty cute in uniform,
but seeing her in her civvies is an entirely different experience.
Considering she’s even more attractive without those said civvies, i’ll explain in a well-versed and educated science channel voice,
logic and the scientific method’s principal of continuity that if i was some day to skin her, she would look even better.

She’ll giggle, and i’ll feel childish again.
Such a rewarding process.

I’ll tell her this is me being retarded all over again, and my science channel monotone will drill away at the idea being that when she sees i’m going at it like that, she’s to get me to shut up by any means neccessary, and that-..
‘Shut up’, she’ll say,
and i’ll go ‘yep, that’s one way to do it.’

She won’t smile.

This page is to be torn and disposed of, the fantasy contained herein to go with it.
I don’t know you.
Who’s soul is it that i attach to all these innocent bystanders?
Would they be honored, had they known?..

(12/3/08)

eaquity — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 18:54:42 +0000

I am caligula, glutton of gluttons,
men of all women,
a whore of all men -
and i’m
not ashamed to admit it,
it’s not enough to say
i love all of you
and i’m aroused.
You’re lying,
you’re lying.

We are ok in a misguided, sadist way,
we are ok.
We are ok, in a disabled, veteran way,
we are ok.

(11/3/08)

eaquity — Tue, 18 Mar 2008 18:45:22 +0000

We are ok.

No, despite the enchanting,
retreating portrait
of the Iowa future
You can’t drive
with your eyes
in the rear view mirror.

And yes,
at this point of the journey
the driver was determined
to head back east -

But dignity is difficult to maintain,
Stamina requires constant upkeep,
Repetition is boring
And you pay for grace.

…And i was every question that never had an answer.

eaquity — Sat, 08 Mar 2008 20:51:00 +0000

Seeing my best friend’s abundancy of options and derived tendancy for opportunism, i’m left to ponder my own.

I’m chicken shit.
In fact, i’m such a damned coward that i am willing to pass up on most of the opportunities life throws at me for the sole reason that trying might make me lose.
I can bring up at least 15 noteworthy quotes, just off the top of my head, in favor of trying, of giving your best shot in spite of the odds, of the downsides of quitting without even trying,
but truth be told, i’m just too much of a skeptic to believe my own advice, not to mention somebody else’s.

Day 238.
I found a pair of weights, 2K, that my sister brought me a good 5 years ago.
Tried lifting them sideways. It didn’t feel right, but i guess i’ll have to wait ’till tomorrow to know the consequences.

Pack-rat.

eaquity — Sat, 08 Mar 2008 20:37:45 +0000

I’ve been detained for 8 days over some minor offense. Starts tomorrow.

I’m packing like a bimbo on a camping trip; i’ve got a big bag already waiting for me at the base, and not remembering what i put in it or how many, i’m bringing another one.
I’ve got approx. 30 movies, plus the two first seasons of ‘the Shield’ on CD and DVD, and a mobile DVD player i borrowed from a friend -
two books, my mp3 player and a spare CD of music, and i’ve eventually decided to bring my guitar over – i’ll plug it into computer speakers or something – just so i wouldn’t get overly rusty.

If i get bored this next week, it definitely won’t be my fault.
Come to think of it, how the hell am i going to get all this back home?..

All That’s Left Has Gone to Sleep.

eaquity — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 07:10:58 +0000

I’m an old man, really.
Someone once said that being old is all about the transition between taking pride in hat you are and what you have – to what you were and what you had.
If that is the truth, then i’ve been old since i was 17 or so – and this wouldn’t be the first time i’ve heard that particular conclusion being made.

I’ve been wasting so much time trying to relive my past that i hardly remember how to do anything else.
I swam the long route home
And i’ve got broken shoulders.

I’m sticking to home, to my safe grounds as if nothing good could ever find me elsewhere.
I am safe, for now. Safe in the knowledge there’s nothing i can do about all of this,
safe in the knowledge that this is all out of my hands.

What She Wants. (2/3/08)

eaquity — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 07:03:43 +0000

Paratrooper boy gave me a book of his to read. Said he swears by it and that i simply have to see for myself.
It’s called ‘What She Wants’, and is arguably the most mind-bending, gut-wrenching specimen of modern society hypocrisy and shallowness i’ve ever seen;
Hence, it’s of undeniable value and i do believe it should be taught in schools worldwide alongside WW2 and the Vietnam war.
Fear it, puny mortals.

Simply put, it is an unprecedented load of superficial rubbish, coupled by shallow analogies, the exaltation of hypocrisy and an unerring post-urban overtone of so called sexual ‘liberalism’, and carefully imbued spelling mistakes.

I repeat, spelling mistakes.

To top it all off, it narrows the female species down to 5 or 6 archetypes and teaches you how to deal with them via a checklist -
so if your victimized lady is both stupid and superficial, for example,
then you need to be aggressive and physical as well as mentioning various brand names and high-society locales blatantly.

Nay, i say!
If she’s both stupid and superficial , you need to avoid dating her -
it’s the simple and obvious truth that this particular book hasn’t figured out just yet.

I remember Vicka. I can’t say i was following a pre-determined check list, but i might have all the same.
It wasn’t courting. It wasn’t close to being a relationship.
It was easy, cheap and immediate, and it wasn’t worth eating myself over how useless it was.

Time better spent making a sandwich.

Is, Was and Will Be. (1/3/08)

eaquity — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 06:45:18 +0000

Day 235.
Yesterday i moved my hand in the wrong direction.
I was expecting to feel pain – the familiar sting and screeching notion, but there was nothing.
Actually, the lack of pain frightened me for a moment. Old habits die hard, i guess.
‘Going home is hard, but what’s to be said for staying away’, right?

My qualm with this song -
Take notes, i’m thinking -
This fleeting moment of your enjoyment will pass.
And even if this ambience did not stop
Until the earth quit spinning
You’d eventually bore of it and implore of us that we do not continue.

If you tried to write nines until there were no nines,
In time, you’d die and you would not finish.

The only difference in infinacy between god and us
Is our own imprisonment in time.
God, can i please fast-forward to the best parts?
Then god, can i please rewind to the beginning?

My palms, my hand, my neck is sweating,
The seconds drip from the clock like a broken tap -
If you try and plug the leak with anything, it only leaks much faster
And you know that one day, the valve will break
And the volume of your water main will unleash on your bedroom,
And i’ve got a lot of shit to do,
I don’t have time to fit that in anytime soon.

I whisper an answer, i tremble, you pause,
Just tell me that it’s not in vain, you’ll never forget me…
These moments – my moments – i want them, they’re mine
And if you bury them with me i’ll never forgive you.

So who cares if my time is wasted? You don’t use it.
It’s nothing.
All i can be is all there is, was and will be.

Bent at the elbows.

eaquity — Sat, 23 Feb 2008 22:08:56 +0000

It’s time to write again.
The endless liability of human connection, of leaving something behind.
I tire of reaching out, and i apologize in advance – i fully intend to be cryptic this time around.

Paratrooper boy came to visit. First time he’s actually been here, and i think he took it kinda hard.
I find i need to face my lies just to see i’m apparently not lying at all, and i wonder if someone upstairs is cracking jokes at my expense.

I’ve been playing with the thought for a while now;
i remember Mor thinking her life was pre-planned. I remember the concept being as funny as it was theoretically depressing, in a schizoid kind of way.
She said i should get used to it – strange things happen around her. Magical things, she would say, and i would smile and nod and tell her she was cute, and then she would take me seriously and ignore the subtext.

It’s kind of a regressed memory, but in our earlier days she decided we could not keep seeing each other because of Alice in Wonderland.
She was confident her life was conceptually parallel to the story of the book, that it all had a deep and profound meaning for her – and according to her interpretations of the text, we were bound for failure. It was the next logical step, and bound to happen.

She took quite a bit of convincing to drop the subject.
While i must admit it was adorable and innocent, it was undeniably moronic and immature and as such, a bit like having a pair of wings; it’s great in theory, but hard to actually live with.

I’ve yet to adopt a Lewis Carroll book as a personal prophecy, but i’m toying around with the conception of paying for my bullshit through divine guidance;
My life has an unsettling habit of giving me everything i ever wished for – or admitted wishing for albeit wrongfully, which is a gentle way of depicting a lie -
in just the right dosage and timing as to make me regret it.

Is it just a game?..
…All of it?..