Open the door and the wind will blow the leaves inside.

And the leaves are curious.

I just want to relax. NOT AN OPTION!

I got a call today about the apartment I've been fantasizing about for months... I can have it if I want it. Now I don't believe that I want it anymore. It's too small. I just don't know what I'm doing. I feel so clueless, but the choices I make now will greatly effect my future. I hate that. I like choices of no consequence. I am not sure if any such choices actually exist. I am working for my parents the next three days. First I will clean their entire house, then I will be ushering their concert, along with working the door, providing security, taking donations and also snapping some photographs. How will I do? Well. I'm sure. I hope. Wanting to do well is more than half of the challenge.

The last blog I posted was just a quick blood letting. I was thinking about some things that bother me. I tried to convey my frustrations in a way that would be cryptic and direct. I just don't really want anyone to know what it is I'm talking about because I am embarrassed of my emotions. Don't tell me that I should not be. Maybe I shouldn't be embarrassed about most of the things I feel, but there are a couple of things about me that bring me great shame. I have not acted in an inappropriate way outwardly, that is one thing I can take pride in. Inside I am always a mess. I would expect that everyone is, but I hope not.

Yesterday I had a lot of things on my mind that I wanted to get done. I did none of these things. Working for CVS was way easier than this. If I ask for answers, I get questions. It is my life, but what do I know about living it? This is a very honest question. I don't even know that any of the things I am struggling for are things that I want. I feel like I am seventeen. When I was actually seventeen, I was really only fourteen, at best.

I like doing one thing. What that thing is isn't important. I start doing one thing and I find that I like it. That's it! That is the thing I will be doing from now on. The only thing. Nothing else matters. It may be a food I like to eat, like figs. It may be an activity I enjoy, like bicycling. It may be an album I love, like Deerhoof's Apple O'. I find that breaking habits is my whole life. I am easily set into routine because without it I get nothing done. Things I have never done never begin. How would I know how to do it? The second time around I will be a professional... or close to it. I just can't wait for the time when the awkward firsts are over so I can live. My guess is that they won't ever be over.

Fuck you, bitch!

I can't fucking stand to look at your face in the photograph.

I can't fucking stand to look in the mirror.

I can't stand it.

One day I will do or create something that will make them all think. They will miss me. Until then, get a job, lose some weight, listen to music, pretend to cry, worry, take a walk, cash a check, grab the phone to warm my pocket, grab the keys, drive, leave it all behind... except for most of it, go all in for a few moments and then change my mind, Prove to myself somehow that I do exist in the same world that you do, make sure that world is not Facebook, remember I am going to die, die.

David: Just remember that your slander is only your sad lazy attempt to deal with hurt. Accept your fate and move on, then it might get better. You are projecting the struggles you have with being who you want to be onto an imaginary woman, only this imaginary woman happens to be fleshy and warm and can be seen by everyone she passes. She will be there whether you conjure her or not. She is only what you make her, but only because she passed you a long time ago. Not worth two minutes. Your friends do not care about you the way real friends should. You can leave them all. Do not worry. GO! Do what feels right to YOU! Just don't kill anyone.

Cyclist

In the last three days I have biked about 120 miles, give or take. My dad got a nice road bike, along with a new home in downtown Santa Ana, so I've been going up there to borrow the bike. There is a very long paved trail that runs along the Santa Ana river from the Huntington Beach coast to Yorba Linda. The first ride I took ran from Santa Ana to Anaheim to Huntington then back to Santa Ana. The next day I took the trail the opposite direction and hit Yorba Linda, then came back. Each ride was just shy of forty miles. Then yesterday I set out for the trail, which is about four miles from my starting point, but I took a different route and never found the trail. I made it to the coast on streets and ended up in Newport. I headed north to Huntington and caught the trail back. After getting off of the trail I got lost. I biked all over Santa Ana until I found some trails. I biked through parks and under railroad tracks and by an archery range. I exited the trail and using my best judgment figured out which direction to go to get back to my parent's house. I ended up in Orange, so I called my dad to find out what the hell I had done. As it turned out, I had been heading the exact opposite direction of where I wanted to go, and at a great speed. The good news was that I was only three or four miles away. I turned around and made it back moments later. I imagine my ride was fifty miles, or more, considering all of the ground I covered. I was out for nearly three hours and had consumed very little water, so when I was done I was drinking a lot of water. But this did not make up for the lack of fluids during the ride, apparently, because for the rest of the night I had a terrible headache and felt weak. I only remember one other time I felt this way, and that was years ago when I experienced my first, and last hangover. After a lot of sleep I feel much better... still not perfect, but I am well enough to be on a stationary bike right now while looking into the bright computer screen.

Tomorrow I have an appointment to see an apartment in Los Angeles. It is an artists community with several open units for $750. I would like for it to work out. I will also look around the area for work. I want to find a Trader Joe's or something, they seem to treat their workers with much more respect than I am used to.

I guess that is all. Goodbye.