last glass...dusty buckets...parched e-lips...sponge...drip...drop

2002-11-13 - 8:25 p.m.: vintage whine

I get into these funks. I don't even know how to describe them... it's like a feeling of fullness in the space just between my collarbone and throat.. a "coiled" sensation.. as though there are words or thoughts or emotions wrapped up and waiting to spring out...

but there aren't.

There are no reasons for these funks. No triggers. They come and go. What I usually end up doing is running, or walking for miles and miles, or dragging out pieces of cardboard or (when I'm rich) canvas and coating them with layers upon layers of acrylic... inventing paths, directions, colors, textures, shapes and storylines to distract or draw out whatever it is that is trying to swim up from my heart into my head. It doesn't always work.

This is one of those days.

I think it's directionless ambition. Hopes that have lost their way. Feelings that, if I were properly socialized, would be satisfied by a promotion, a raise, a night-club conquest...feelings that I have no use for, the way I am.

Or do I? I know I have desires. I just don't like admitting them... I have this vague sense of fear that every time I say "I want," I'm making it come true.. whereas if I don't admit that I lack something, there's a slim chance that I already have it.

But then, there's something to be said for giving voice to dreams.. like planting signposts in your head labeling the roads you're choosing to take. Like footprints, establishing direction. So... I'll start here.

What I want:

I want to find a buried treasure and leave it alone out of courtesy. I want to be able to look strangers in the eye when I smile. I want to be able to believe in god without feeling tricked. I want to feel proud of my mistakes. I want to be able to smile when my feelings are hurt, and mean it. I want to be on a first-name basis with my guardian angel. I want to be able to play the guitar (and be okay with playing it badly). I want to be able to run up and kiss someone without worrying that it might be misconstrued. I want to be able to say no. I want to be able to say yes without feeling like I should say no. I want to know what it feels like to be a cat. And a fish. I want to have the presence of mind to put on a watch in the morning, and the presence of heart to decide to take it off. I want to be able to decipher my emotions. I want to be able to throw away the uglier ones. I want my heart to agree with my mind on matters of love and trust. I want to be able to ignore things that don't matter in the long run. I want to be able to value them with my whole heart. I want to be able to trust people I don't know. I want to be able to trust people I do know. I want to remember, at critical moments, that "this too will pass." I want to believe that this moment will last forever. I want to be brave enough to skateboard. I want to know what it feels like to hold an opinion for good. I want to write something that will touch someone I don't know. I want to touch someone I don't know. I want to make a child feel free. I want to accept a compliment without blushing. I want to know what Bill-in-a-wheelchair-with-a-ten-year-old-daughter spent the $100 on, and whether or not he laughed when he found it. I want a mystery to solve. I want to believe in Miss Cleo. I want to find a message in a bottle. I want to write my name on a wall and find it in 50 years. I want to receive a mysterious package in the mail. I want to write an anonymous love letter and send it. I want a pair of rubber galoshes with handles for pulling them on. I want to cry during sappy commercials and not feel ashamed. I want to tell a dirty joke well. I want to make a difference. I want to make someone cry from joy. I want to save an inchworm from certain death.

I know that's not all. But it's a damn good start.