HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DARLIN'!

Reading:street signs
Smoking:kool


I've been doing a lot of traveling.

Traveling in the literal sense. I haven't really gone anywhere special. I haven't done anything particularly exciting. I've just been on the road a whole lot. Which isn't to say that's a bad thing, it's just the fact of the matter.

I've been smoking a lot more lately.

In time I'll come to enjoy the fresh mountain air from forgotten Colorado. The sting of the salt standing on a marsh in North Carolina. Fish and oil from the harbors of and around Portland. But for now I've got the skin-cracking, finger-numbing cold dry air from the plains of West Texas. Maybe I could smell the faith if they didn't close up the giant Jesus in a glass box. So what do I do to remedy the nose bleeds and the cracked lips? Give my lungs something to fight for, that's what!

I've been rotting away lately.

Doing nothing is the most tiring job in the world (see my last job). I was fired, which is cool. I needed to be fired, in fact that's what I told my boss when she asked what I would do in her place. I was in this terrible what-the-fuck-am-I-doing-with-myself-here daze everyday I was there. I read mediocre magazines and relayed stupid shit from some of the meanest people in the country (although in their defense, 'their' being the hearing impaired, others were the most joyous people in the world). It was nothing new. I got to the point where I didn't even know what the fuck was going on in the conversation, I was just typing when appropriate. I think that's what you're supposed to do. Well, it bugged the hell out of me and then I got to the point where I was almost breaking that oh so important line of transparency. If I wouldn't have been fired for truancy, I would have been fired for appearing human.

I long to be human, recently.

Being upset about what I was upset with at my job made me realize that I, sure, can do any job that's available to me in the market with my amount of education, but that doesn't mean that it's not going to send me over the edge. I would have given myself another month there before cracking.

I'm a brother (again).

If you read this shit for Kate and hardly glance at the literary defecation of myself, then you already know that I have another sibling. A sister. The doctors are certain she has trisomy 21. This is a terrible thing. I think that I'm the first person in the family to admit that. This is a god damn terrible thing. She's such an easy child now, but what about later? In any case, the blood work hasn't come in yet and I am also the only person not trusting the doctors at this time.

I'm learning to hide again.

I can appear in public once more without fear of slips in mental behavior, if you will. Not to say that there are times that I have to save myself from an epileptic fit or shitting myself on an escalator (something that I would love to see other people do, though!), but I can bottle up any sort of mania and let it out little by little when my pockets get full. AND I HAVE A LOT OF POCKETS, GOD DAMMIT!

I suppose that's it.

myspace.com/arghathisia - check it out.

end transmission

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