Five of Cups
So The Festival of L is upon us. So far so good. Starting a few days early with an awesome Flaming Lips show. I got some new pants and every Monday has been TV heaven. This Friday I was surprised by my lady-love with a chocolate Mushroom and about five and a half hours of moving walls and swirling thoughts,. Hanging out with A.Zo’s co-workers, we journeyed to a supposed Irish Bar that was packed to the gills with yuppies and frat boys dressed all a like chasing after sorority/yuppie chicks each dressed identical also. I mean the walls were covered with Irish looking things and photos of people playing Irish music. There was even an Irish folk band playing when we left. But the real draw for the rest of the people there was this enormous patio. It was like where all those MTV Spring Breakers go when it’s not Spring Break. So there I was tripping face, still dressed in my kitchen gear, in the midst of my version of hell talking to lawyers about what else-metal. The whole time my mind was trying to figure out why on earth anyone would voluntarily put themselves into this kind of situation, when too guys walk by wearing shirts that said “Boob 4 Bachelors”. I managed not to freak out long enough for us to call a cab and get the hell out of there. One thing that I can not stand is Weekend Warriors. Those nine-to-five-ers that only get hammered on the weekend. If you can’t party on Tuesday, you can’t party on Friday.
Once we go it home everything was fine. Anitra broke out her Tarot cards and read my future and we sat outside and talked for a while. I did a cart-wheel in the room (without hitting the ceiling fan). We had a few laughs and watched this movie about Palestinian Freedom Fighters. It was a fine trip, but the next day at work I felt like absolute shit. On top of feeling run down and hung over, one of my teeth started giving me problems. I was in constant pain and we got slammed right at the last hour of work. Back to my trip, I thought a lot about my future and my past. Lately I’ve been typing out my old journals and I’ve come to a conclusion. I am not as profound as I thought I was. I used to believe that I had some type of majestic insight and had written some essays that were simply ahead of their time. In reality I scribbled down some drunk/high-as-hell ramblings and incomplete theories on nothing. Not that I think that it was all a waste, I found a lot of semi-cool maxims and one-liners to use. For the most part though it’s been disappointing to say the least. So I vow from here on out to try my best to complete my thoughts. I refrained from blogging or writing anything down until I had hashed out my thoughts. I also pledge to not stop until I am fully published and get what ideas I have completed to print. I also discovered that I can no longer do drugs and go to work the next day. So if I ever have a weekend off I too may become a Weekend Warrior.