ruthless in-efficiency

Yesterday I turned to the friendtor and said, "I just want to lay down my head and cry for the things that have already happened that stopped happening and may never happen again."

Her response? "Good. You should. That means you're not done experiencing it yet."

"I'm never done experiencing anything," I replied.

I am famous for throwing out little off the cuff statements like this, usually half-joking, and they rather instantly disturb me with the ring of truth about them. I suppose it is a faculty of memory to keep the events that dictate our lives in permanent stasis, allowing them to reverberate with decreasing force as time goes by.

Hearing snippets from the Arcade Fire's Funeral reminded me so much of being in Morlaix, walking around all over hell and compulsively listening to that album. Lost in my hash-headed, hamfisted thoughts, walking all over town be-scarfed and windblown, carrying groceries by the heaping armoload. Walking underneath the viaduct, strolling through the harbor, edging past the drunken celtic gypsies while listening to...yup, Arcade Fire, instead of their drunken, incomprehensible what-have-yous.

And Montana. For just about five minutes this morning, I wanted to be in Montana so bad I felt like there was a hand around my throat.

The hardest thing is to keep walking forward and believe that the memories you are making and the ones that will follow can be that good or even better or more profound or more intense.

I live in da ATX now, and I am living in a simultaneous simplicity and exorbitance that is rather incredibly appropriate to me - as balanced as any bloody thing I touch can be. I will be able to say I survived the summer in Texas without mothafucking air conditioning. Soon this could become the experience in my young life I one day relent ever coming to an end.

Tonight, I kind of have a date. We'll see how it goes...