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Back-Dated.
Feb. 7th, 2004 04:31 pmLast weekend was a wonderful, amazing time. Marc, Piers and I journeyed up and yonder to the wonders of the South Bay (not to be confused with South Bay in LA) to take part in what was an amazing, amazing roleplaying event.
And at some point in the near future, I shall (yeah, I keep promising myself) commit it to a written form...but I ain't feelin' it right now.
To misquote Yoda "You must keep your mind where you are at." So here I am.
[begin rant here]
( Yes. I whine. Fucking deal with it already. )
[end rant]
Went and hung with Marc and Justin last night. Sat around playing GTA: Vice City, and eating unhealthy and wonderful chili burgers from Tommy's and drinking rum and coke. Because violent video games and trash talking ("Dude, your mom is so hot!" "Shut up, you fucker!") is greatly enhanced by booze. Ah, the stuff that Justin can come up with is wonderful, and disgusting, and shouldn't be repeated for fear of being struck down by lightening. To quote Marc "This guy is our friend?"
On the way up, driving through LA, I looked over and saw the moon. She was peeking out through a copse of bare, twiggy trees on the side of the 110 at the transition to the 101 and the 10 west. The Moon hung low, and bright, and shone through the cold, cloudy wintery haze that I used to associate with snow. It gave her a halo. She was full, and bright. Bjork was playing on the radio, and I think that I was lost in the sound of her voice, moreso than what she was saying. And in the stop and go traffic of Downtown in the evening, I had a beautiful moment, with just me in the car. It was the poetry of live. A perfect, Larry Talbot Moon framed by trees, with a sad, heartbreaking wail. It was lovely.
And I had no one to share it with.
I drove the rest of the way wondering if I could convey it somehow. I wanted to try here. But it was something that could only be appreciated by being there.
I drove home late last night, wondering if the sniper in my neighbor hood had stopped shooting at the police yet, and if I would make it home in one piece. Then I suddenly didn't care. I turned up the radio, sang along with Amy Mann, and begged for someone to save me.
And I looked at the moon again. And shared a moment with the only that ever seems to be there late at night when I'm just feeling alone. Me.
And at some point in the near future, I shall (yeah, I keep promising myself) commit it to a written form...but I ain't feelin' it right now.
To misquote Yoda "You must keep your mind where you are at." So here I am.
[begin rant here]
( Yes. I whine. Fucking deal with it already. )
[end rant]
Went and hung with Marc and Justin last night. Sat around playing GTA: Vice City, and eating unhealthy and wonderful chili burgers from Tommy's and drinking rum and coke. Because violent video games and trash talking ("Dude, your mom is so hot!" "Shut up, you fucker!") is greatly enhanced by booze. Ah, the stuff that Justin can come up with is wonderful, and disgusting, and shouldn't be repeated for fear of being struck down by lightening. To quote Marc "This guy is our friend?"
On the way up, driving through LA, I looked over and saw the moon. She was peeking out through a copse of bare, twiggy trees on the side of the 110 at the transition to the 101 and the 10 west. The Moon hung low, and bright, and shone through the cold, cloudy wintery haze that I used to associate with snow. It gave her a halo. She was full, and bright. Bjork was playing on the radio, and I think that I was lost in the sound of her voice, moreso than what she was saying. And in the stop and go traffic of Downtown in the evening, I had a beautiful moment, with just me in the car. It was the poetry of live. A perfect, Larry Talbot Moon framed by trees, with a sad, heartbreaking wail. It was lovely.
And I had no one to share it with.
I drove the rest of the way wondering if I could convey it somehow. I wanted to try here. But it was something that could only be appreciated by being there.
I drove home late last night, wondering if the sniper in my neighbor hood had stopped shooting at the police yet, and if I would make it home in one piece. Then I suddenly didn't care. I turned up the radio, sang along with Amy Mann, and begged for someone to save me.
And I looked at the moon again. And shared a moment with the only that ever seems to be there late at night when I'm just feeling alone. Me.
