no tongues here, only welts on the skin and gaping red mouths
��������� �����jasonmraz. tonight, not again. appropriate. [and i'm all alone tonight, oh, not again, not again]it's ... no-one's fault but my own. indifference is better (by worlds) than depression. "i revoke your right to speak," said amy at denny's tonight. after i said countless stupid things. not hurtful things. just stupid things. i should shut my mouth. i'm not depressed. i just said to myself, "wow. i'm going to kill myself tonight." and i won't. which depresses me for a moment. and then i don't care. a hard core in the pit of my stomach. it arises - not from the spa awards, which were lovely (and somewhat boring in places, as all award shows are) - i'm simply not a funny person. and life is geared toward comedy. laughing is hard. stupid comments are many. mouth open, stupidity flows.
it reminded me tonight, riding middleseat in mark's van. envious, again, jealous, again [it's when you cry just a little but you laugh in the middle] hatred stabbing in my throat, like always. hateful rage and envy. this is so public. anyone could read this and take the initiative (if they haven't already) to simply tell him everything. perhaps in worry for his wellbeing. i am again the stalker. he is once more the gentleman hero. this is all distorted perception, like looking through a frosted-glass window.
kellsy made me very happy tonight with a single phrase - "does anyone have a pen?"
"sure, i do - " i pass the pen to her. she smiles.
"of course - writers always have a pen ..."
even remembering it. i smile. a little. the awards were good fun. but i hate people lately. in the beginning, making traditional cynic remarks, wandering in longsleeve white shirt, gray pants. gray blazer. dark. new haircut. felt stupid. a prat. made a remark? "if you're going to be cynical tonight, don't sit near me," says rachel. "i want to have fun tonight."
silent tongue. so i walked away. [pass me the analytical knife, cause you're about to get cut up, cut down - shut up or get shot down, it's all about know-how, it's all about taste] later, amy. later, everyone. we are an acerbic group, thriving on cutting down others. a collection of photos grouped in my hand. a few (unfortunately) of "vito on the beach" - and me, ugh. a couple of mark in camino real.
"i picture some guy living at home with his mother with this music on. rocking back and forth," anthony says as the old forties music with static comes on the radio in the van.
angry tonight. but indifferent. it's easier to be indifferent than it is to be depressed. a cool, clinical look. i don't know how the hours are now going to wind out. [get up or get down, shut up or get shot down - ]
perhaps i will practice being a mute.