OK, but seriously

Some­thing about Macarthur Park sums up how I’ve been feel­ing late­ly. Who was the ass­hole that left the cake out in the rain? Dammit.

I had a dream last night that I went on a road trip with Ham­mer­head, and that we went «camp­ing» in strangers’ homes. We pulled in to their dri­ve­ways and snuck in to the homes of sub­ur­ban­ites and slept in their guest bed­rooms. Some­times our unwit­ting hosts would pass by the doors on their way to the bath­room, and there was always a rush to get going in the morn­ing before we were discovered.

Don’t pre­tend to know what it’s about. Per­haps a nar­ra­tion of my feel­ings of dis­place­ment. Some of the unpleas­ant­ness that runs through my head is about being home­less and unem­ployed. I’m scared because I was brought up to believe in very Ayn Ran­di­an prin­ci­ples, and so if I have no job and no place to live and no health insur­ance, then that’s just soci­ety’s way of telling me I should just go die.

Okay, so I do pre­tend to know what it’s about.

In oth­er news. I actu­al­ly went out and took a bike ride last night. I want­ed to get out of Des­tiny’s apart­ment and I was feel­ing lone­ly. So I dropped in unex­pect­ed­ly on the young woman with whom I went to see the mete­or show­er the oth­er night. It was a nice vis­it and helped me feel human. I have all these ques­tions and I guess I’m just not going to have answers for them.

I sort of for­got that it’s pret­ty rude of me to drop in with­out call­ing first, but I guess it’s what I need­ed to do. It made me feel con­nect­ed to be able to walk out my door and vis­it anoth­er human being with­out using elec­tric­i­ty to do it. Was Cliff Stoll right? Does elec­tron­ic media make us actu­al­ly far­ther apart? There was a time when knock­ing on some­one’s door was the accept­ed way of say­ing hel­lo, and now it’s rude.

Not sure exact­ly what to make of it. She did­n’t make a big deal about it, but she did remind me that it’s best to call first.

Heh. It’s weird that I’m still a pret­ty young guy and I get caught in mod­ern eti­quette with my old-fash­ioned atti­tudes. Or maybe I just yearn for old-fash­ioned val­ues because it’s some­thing — any­thing — to grasp on to in my attempt to fill the mean­ing­less void that I call my life.

Ham­mer­head called me on the phone and said i was sound­ing bet­ter. From the way I’m typ­ing, I’m start­ing to won­der if I mis­heard him and he said I was sound­ing “bit­ter.”

Well, more soon.