Sweater Weather
and or
Trippin Balls
They say denial is the first stage. But I find myself flying through stages six, seven, eight and on into nine, still trying to play my denial card. All along the way the cashiers say, “I’m sorry sir, your denial card has been denied”
You may have noticed I’m doing a lot of looking back these days. Perhaps it’s because the here & now is so so fucked. A total shit show. So so fucked.
I’m looking back at times I can manufacture and manipulate in my head, adjusting the hue, to create a picture, however contrived, that’s a bit more comforting than current events. It’s my own special phantom nostalgia syndrome. It makes sense because I made it make sense.
Like Kurt Vonnegut said
EVERYTHING
WAS
BEAUTIFUL
AND
NOTHING
HURT
I can’t even begin to talk about the FUCKED UP shit that fills the so-called news these days. Maybe it’s because I took some Tylenol and now I’m autistic.
Moving forward
Looking back
Retrospect
Watching Matt Messenger sell weed to each and every attorney in need right there in their very own law firm mailroom
Buying acid from Pip in the mailroom of a large law firm at 1420.
Buying fat sacks of mushrooms from Ortega right there in the open air of Pioneer Square.
Tripping balls
Reading the headlines in the NY Times
Buying a new oven mitt
Retreating into the past in a cycle of denial fueled by strong beer and Wilson Phillips lyrics
Don't you know, things can change
Things'll go your way
If you hold... on for one more day
Can you hold... on for one more day?
Things'll go your way (oh, things'll go your way)
Hold on for one more day
hold on for one more day
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