Last night, during Conan I turned off everything in my living room. The old color TV, the borrowed vcr, the funny blue colored midi keyboard, the large amp, the tape deck, the old 80's sampler, the little digital reverb unit and the PowerBook G3 with the Max Headroom yellow tape.
Everything. Until the only sound was the irritating noises of the refridgerator and my neighbors.
I got some Ben & Jerry's S.N.A.F.U. from the freezer and a plastic fork. A tip from young scooper-type QuinnI'm not sure why either.
Sat down on my futon top that serves as a queen-sized sleeping mat. Opened up Ulysses, switched on my book light and picked where I left off...
After the first chapter, I started crying.
“I don't want to be a failure.”
And for a good long time, I lied there. Alone... sobbing... cursing myself.
I whined about it all to Lauren earlier. And claimed it's ADHD, depression, issues with my father and all that shit.
But it's not, is it God?
It ain't self versus self, honey...
...it was unusually quiet...
...and you can't eat melted ice cream with a fork.