Juggling for Corpses

Yesterday was warmer. Warm enough to walk around town and not think...what the hell am I doing walking around outside in this???

Whenever I read certain authors, I begin to think in novel-speak. Dictating my movements and observations as though i were reading them in a book.

"I got off the bus and headed down the back way out of the station. I do this because a few weeks ago, I happened to get caught in a conversation with a person who was possibly deranged. I straightened my backback and looked across the street at the vegetarian diner I had visited once after that job interview. The masala dish was exquisitely spicy and it was chilly that day. I headed past the modernish looking post office and stopped to pick up the local queer newspaper, to see if there was a job in there a strapping man such as myself could aquire. Nothing r-rated or above mind you...it's just that if an employer knows a person is gay, eccentricities seem a little less problematic (and I had my share). I stood on that corner. Not really really watching the cars go by so much as the delightfully colorful signs in the shops, wondering where I would go next...oh sure, I'd love to be the guy that's simply taking it casually, but in reality, I was looking for a job and I didn't see anywhere that I could stomach for more than two weeks, so I was just drifting around those sidewalks as though I had nothing better to do. I knew I had to pick up some altar candles...depressing to be out of wax...out of incense, whatever else has to happen to appease the powers that be. Again, I thought of heading down to the local gay bar and just relaxing, but these days, america doesn't tolerate breaks, naps or rest periods of any kind unless one is in pre-school...and I was definitely not in pre-school. Then I started thinking about the nightmares and how they creep...how they shout and spit at you from behind the scenes.

I didn't ask for them. That a nightmare could force you to listen to it was impossible but true. That a nightmare could have a face, a hand gesture or manipulate your mental process from where it sits was still horrifying to me, even after all these years. I don't want them, I thought...I'd just as soon move to a deserted island forever than deal with the insanity for another moment...."

Stuff like that. It's great too, if I read Shakespeare I begin to think in complex rhyme schemes, rap music does the same thing...it's marvelous actually. :)

So here I am in another town, another group of people who may or may not take a shine to me. I've found that being sparkly and half mad is amusing to some people...others have to have their sane little worlds...have to love god and go to church and worship the president and think about the football game and have cheaply made beer and buy guns ...something like that...

It's those places I try to avoid. Hell, that's being a clown in a morgue.

Well...whatever....we'll see.