I want to take all the spam return addresses I get and sign them up for spam. Just for the poetic justice of it all.
I had nightmares last night. One in particular involved a friend of mine. We were sitting, talking, one of those deeply personal conversations. My friend suddenly asked me to do something, which while it would have helped them, would have been a gross violation of my ethics. I tried to explain this to them, and was very apologetic, but they got angry, told me they never wanted to talk to me and stormed out. I then proceeded to write a letter to explain myself to them and ask them to please understand, but every attempt at writing was futile. I feared that even if I wrote the letter that it would not be read.
Rob woke me up telling me that we had slept until noon.
I shook the dream off, but it stuck with me for the rest of the day, haunting and disturbing.
I drank some coffee and took my shower, but then as we were heading to Dick Blick's I got a migraine. This persisted as we had a really bad breakfast at Ram's Horn. By the time we got to Office Depot I was in such pain that I had to be dropped at home. I ran right to the bathroom and vomited like crazy. I laid down for a bit, then took eight ibuprofens after my stomach had settled down, rested for an hour, and am finally feeling something close to better. A little weak perhaps, but better.
My mind is filled with little conflicts. I don't want to go to Pittsburgh to pick up my paintings in two weeks. My Dad doesn't seem to care if I arrive or not, and any mental association with that show depresses the hell out of me.
Nine years of painting and I'm nowhere near as good--or even as committed--as I should be. Nine years, and a single condescending remark from my father can cause me to be filled with angst and frustration...god knows I get enough supportiveness on my work from other people, but still there's that...Somehow I feel I should be better, I always feel I should be better, and I wish I could achieve a healthy level of arrogance and pretension.
Times and fragments, hate it here but dont want to leave, dont want to leave anywhere ever again...tired of glimpses, fleeting memories of cities, sick of warming up to people then saying goodbye, sick of my own wanna be Hunter S Thompson attitude about all my moves and all my travels. I want to settle down, open up a business, go to school, for once I want to do all those things in the same place, and yet I still can't figure out what I'm doing a week from now...
And yet I can't knock this feeling that I'm missing something. Some little puzzle piece where it all makes sense, and that it's right in front of me. I haven't got a decent night's sleep since I moved here. Nightmares, insomnia, chronic head and muscle pains. And there's always this feeling that it's so obvious, that if my life were a movie people would get so sick of me not seeing the obvious that they'd just pelt popcorn or walk out of the theatre, or else I'd wind up on an episode of mystery science theatre. And I'm sure it's right in front of my face...