Oh Joy!
2000-08-15 || so you're the ambulance driver
Soundtrack � James Brown-Messing With The Blues

None of my favorite things appear in my eyes anymore. None of the things that make me really happy are happening right now. I get love from all over the place. Good friends. Phone calls all day. E-mails all day. I like so many small things about someone. No one in particular. It�s things I picture in my head. It�s things I think about when I�m by myself. Things I�d love to tell someone when I got home. Everyday right now is different. Every single day I�m happy, something gets in the way. Something deep down comes out and makes me act foolish. There�s just an image at this point. Something I picture. No specific person anymore. It�s all just a fantasy at this point. The wheel of fortune. You get this one day, you get this the next. I swear I have more gray hair on my temples than ever right now. Time to shave it off again. I can�t have specific thoughts right now. Concentration and work are something I don�t need anymore. It�s causing me more mental stress than it is satisfaction. It�s the way I am, and the way I always will be, so just let it alone I guess. Dwelling on things is not going to help me at all at this point. I�m saying the same fucking tired things in here every day now. I�m saying the same five things every day, I just use different words now. When I think of my needs and wants I don�t think I�m going to find it around here, or where I�m looking right now. I�m too �all over the place� to ask for anything easy. I need to be difficult for some reason. I need to feel like I need attention. I don�t need attention. I think I do. I just want something I see on a postcard. I just want something I see walking down the street making me jealous. I want the thing that makes you want to wake up in the morning. As it stands right now I wake up in the morning and tell myself �oh, another day, okay�� It�s not something I think I am going to find because I want to create it in someone. It�s just something that will happen eventually with someone. I�m not out to make someone a fantasy of what I think I want right now. No one is really pulling me with magnets right now. Magnetism from the opposite sex is limited right now. I don�t feel anything. I don�t give out anything. It�s here. Inside here waiting for something I saw one day. Something I felt a million years ago. The best part about this all right now, is I can�t feel anything. I�m numb right now. I laugh. I cry. I have a good time. In the grand scheme of things though, I�m a million miles away right now, watching, laughing more than crying. No need for a mirror, I can see fine from up here. The best things in life come with hurdles and speed bumps. It�s easy to just throw certain feelings into the air and think you know what you�re doing. When it comes from weakness though, it�s obvious. It�s too easy to just throw �hate� out there. Love on the other hand comes with way too many things to even contemplate right now. This is where I feel right now. In the middle of the road. In the middle of the street waiting for a bus to hit me. Waiting for a truck to pick me up and take me across the bridge to the next town. Waiting to take me over the river and introduce me to the good life. The way life should be. I�m so not even close to what I want right now in this town that�s for sure. Look to the shooting star and wish for what you want kid. I saw two shooting stars the other night and I wished for�.oh forget it, it don�t count if I tell it to the public. I remember the way it felt the other day. I forget it now though. It gets far away now. It�s foreign. It�s far away. See it over there? It�s some guy I have no clue about. I�ve never seen him before in my life. If I have I have no idea who he is. He�s not as dumb as people think he is, yet he�s not really in the state of mind people may think he�s in.

The following is coincidental, it's a ghost:

I remember the first time I saw you. I remember the first words you spoke to me. I hated your voice. I remember the first thing you said to me was something really stupid. I told you that years later. I remember the third time I met you. You sighed when I walked away from you. That felt good. I felt my ego. It felt good, sure. Thanks. I sighed when you waved goodbye at the end of the night also. We're even I guess. We don't owe each other a fucking thing. I wonder why you are the way you are sometimes. I wonder what you are thinking a lot of the time. You haven't told me anything about your family. Do you have a family? What did you do when you were a little girl. You feel good when you look at me the way you look at me. It almost feels like I'm real again. No acting class has ever helped me out and how I feel around you. I kind of wish I could have carried your history books in school. I kind of wish we had met when life was less complicated. No boys had labels. No girls had labels. Kissing felt real. Not some drunken cigarette and vodka kiss. You. Not worrying about the cigarette or vodka. Ignoring it, knowing it's you and only you. There's no way I can desribe what it feels like. Safety. So you're the ambulance driver that was supposed to pick me up a while ago. What happened in between all of that? What happened when we didn't talk? I couldn't remember your voice for a long time. I couldn't remember your face for a long time. I couldn't remember your hands for a long time. It was a cold long period that season. Two seasons of me and a head full of memories. Short little memories. Nothing major. We have no history. I've created this imaginary history between us and I have no idea what your name is. I have no idea what color eyes you have three hours later. I've never seen you in the morning. When people are alive. When people are real. Seeing you in a haze of smoke and a million drinks is the only time I know you. That is our history. Our history is shrouded in ashtrays and empty shot glasses. Our history is as vague as me on a late Saturday night. I feel like going outside and thinking about you under the roof of clouds out there. Clouds and rain. A roof to think of you under. I think about you now from time to time and wonder where you are now. Haven't talked to you in a bit. Haven't seen you around. What color eyes do you have again? I'm not full of shit. I'm really full of all of this for you.



before & after


journal

extra

contact


credits