may 6 or 7: paris
yep. i’m not sleepy. i give up on trying to figure myself out. my dad goes to bed at 4 in the morning. maybe this restlessness lives in my blood. but really who cares?
sometimes i feel like everything is finally so nice, i get scared and i just want to die so i can quit while i’m ahead. i mean i don’t actually want to off myself….it’s just…i just know all about how shit changes all the time and i guess this is my little control fantasy. it’s not waiting for the other shoes to drop. i just don’t want to be included in the next round of shit hitting fan, feel me? funnily though, the other day i was convinced that was having a heart attack and that i had merely months, days really, to live…
and then, natch i wanted it all. the disasters, the birthday cakes, the sunday iggies…the whole package for at least 50 years. if i could just survive the weekend i promised nobody but somebody to live the shit out of the next coupla decades.
i bet if i could learn to do a handstand i’d understand stuff better.