I barely saw any fire flies and I didn't get to pick a single black raspberry. I sit on my back porch day in and day out staring out at the boxed off patch of sky from a plastic lawn chair wondering what I'm doing (I.E. what am I doing wrong, what am I not doing) - yet maybe I am doing it right. Then again the other question comes: what the hell am I even doing? I've been sick for a week now, and brutal cold looks like it is morphing into gritty throat infection. I've got no health insurance and I'm nervous about seeking medical attention. I've got a follow up interview at Blockbuster tomorrow at noon and my tonsils are big red pitted golf balls looming in my throat with little white splotches. They called me on Wednesday and I'm afraid it'll look bad if I'm still sick on Monday. Keeping me inside on these last sunny days, fever keeping me in cold sweats for the last bits of heat. Instead I review my past incessantly looking for my lost magic - my lost sense of language, my lost candid honesty (more real and less "brutal" sounding), my lost interest in life, my lost fire and compassion. Maybe if I re-learn myself and can imitate it well enough it will come back some day. You know, fake it till you make it? I hope I still get to play on the train tracks and go mini golfing and go to the forest preserve. Fall is coming soon and I yearn for dead leaves that resemble this whole city going up in flames and the crisp smell of smoke and the first edges of dry cold coming into the air. I'll go to a pumpkin patch and a haunted house and drink tons of apple cider in my sweaters and lay in piles of leaves - since I've missed out on most of my summer dreams in favor of bars and other human drudgery, I cannot let myself slip any further into this bullshit. I'm sick of this droning and following. I wish I'd never learned to "go with the flow". Sure it made me more sociable and more of a "person" but god am I so miserable now. I don't even know how to ask people to leave anymore (that used to be my biggest strongpoint).
Oh me, oh my. When will you learn, little kitten?
(I was determined in Chicago but dug my feet into my knees.)