I HAVE! I am currently being a rather major shithead, in the form of avoiding editing my novel and instead walking around my house singing
In a hair-metal fashion, really loud and wailing and contorting my face into an ocean of emotion and wrinkles like a stressed Shar Pei (because the wrinkles are tight like folding a paper airplane instead of luscious and loose like the dog). I’m dressed fully in grey sweats and Christmas socks! Want to come over? What if I got rich and famous and then just invited a bunch of blowhards I met in the previous three years to all my parties? Like I was doing a thing of “I made it” and somehow I did it alone or whilst desperately needing to shed all the people who were integral to me getting there, who helped form who I am from our years of making freakazoid outsider art in San Francisco? That would be so cool, I would be so cool and people with really nice cars would find me hilarious. I would be a jokey belle of the balle! I often think of being on Sixth Street between Market and Mission many years ago, maybe 20? I think looking down the dead end part of Jessie Street (just looked at a map to be sure and there’s a BLUE BOTTLE COFFEE A BLOCK AWAY!! LET ME BE THE FIRST TO DECLARE THAT JUST NOW, SF HAS BEEN GENTRIFIED AND IF I COULD STRING A DECENT SENTENCE TOGETHER ABOUT IT INSTEAD OF THE FRAGMENTARY AND NAVEL-GAZING BUFFOONERY OF A BLOG ENTRY, YOU BEST BELIEVE I WOULD BE PITCHING THIS TO THE HEAD OF CUISINART). There was a residential hotel on the right hand side, I think. There was a lady with her head out a window a few floors up, maybe 3 or 4. I believe she was a sex worker because she was throwing bottles and other crap at the people she knew in the street and one of them yelled, “You’re going to have to come down eventually!” and then something about her only having an hour up there. She would PAY THE PRICE for shunning her people as soon as the temporary glory (really was it glory? Maybe!) ended.
How the mighty of our re-imaginings fall!
Anyway. I am listening to the rain slow outside, and thinking of eating a cough drop. I need to work on my novel.
I REMEMBER WHEN WE TALKED ABOUT LOVE IN THE BACK OF A CHEVROLET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!