16.7.06

unexpected second post.

I hate summer. Just fucking hate it. There's a list as long as Illinois of things I hate (and that's in very small print), but summer is somewhere near the top of it. I fell asleep tonight and missed good times I lost interest in every time I stepped outside, cause, well, you know, fuck this fucking heat. Bucket would love to go south or west to one of those places where the sun cooks people's common sense into pudding, but give me Minnesota. I wrote a song about it, once. Not really Minnesota, but I called it that. It was about loss.

A lot of my songs are. I don't like loss any more than summer. Most of the time I don't like love because of how it tends to end.

You know; I'm not very close to people. I like them, hell I love them, but we're not close. Bucket's about as close as I get and that's sometimes sad. I don't try to insulate, but I wonder if it's not like what the movies did to love. The movies are wrong about love, see, love's a job. It's a 15 second orgasm and a bad fight and losing and gaining and having and not having, but doing it together for little reason other than you decided to. We're 'sposed to feel perfect and be happy and all the other wrong headed shit that just isn't possible. I don't want to be happy, I want to be full. That means life has to suck a little some times. And love means you have to disagree. Fuck the movies. Fuck talk shows and greeting cards and self help. There is no paradigm, life is meant to blow sometimes, carrying around your shit with you makes you interesting. There is no good or bad or right, just alive and being fucked up like everyone else, but trying to be cool with it.

And back to what expectation has done to being close. We're 'sposed to feel close and connected and to share, but nine times out of ten I don't have a damn thing to say when I'm content. So we've gotta maintain and share for intimacy at precisely the moments we should sit and just fucking be.

Mean fucking trick.

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