having cats can sometimes be like an on-again, off-again relationship—at least when it comes to going on vacation. cats show absolutely no affection upon returning from a trip. theirs is the attitude of, well you’re the asshole who left us, why should we be excited you’re back?
it’s really only after some time well-spent, and perhaps a fresh bowl of food, that they come around and things are all good again.
yesterday, two paraphrased sentences from two conversations, twelve hours apart:
—you seem to have been able to move around, on from relationships—
—so, i guess i’ll see you in another five or ten years?—
i’ve been thinking about paths chosen, forks in roads. the tenacity of an undercurrent. idealism is a dangerous hill, because one stumble begins a long and perilous fall. in my case, i did not so much fall down a hill as jump off a ledge.
at one point and time, i had an understanding of what i wanted from this life—once circumstances began to chip away at that, i spent decades breaking everything in sight. i’ve always been an all-or-nothing type. now there are many shards of space spread across time, and i really don’t know what to make of them anymore.
godspeed you! black emperor at the palladium / worcester, massachusetts
there are parts of today that will take me a few more to process. there are other parts of today that will take much, much longer. i now have two years of sobriety under my belt and am at the point of that working through the recovery process where i’m beginning to understand what it means to truly dig through and clear away the wreckage of my past.
i watched providence flood for lunch, and by night was in my old show-going stomping-grounds to see my favorite band—everything that happened today was the reason i came back east, and though a solid majority of it was incredibly difficult, it was for good. now i am left alone with the french toast i didn’t finish and a lot to think about, and there are still three days before i can get back to the studio to start painting again.
