I want breathing fuel. I wish I hadn’t drank it.
I want to play with fire.
(I want to burn it back.)
I want breathing fuel. I wish I hadn’t drank it.
I want to play with fire.
(I want to burn it back.)
ten minute makeup job before Krewe du Poux:
(still completely sober at this point…)
I can never express how wonderful it is to now call New Orleans my home.
After all that we’ve been through in recent months,
we needed each other.
I do believe that Fred will be re-animated today.
Haven’t seen a single soul on stilts. Time to break out the four legged creature and stand tall.
And watch out for ceiling fans.
8:30 in the afuckingm, Mardi Gras Day. The alarms I set were merciful, and had other ideas besides waking me up at 4:30 to be on Good Morning America – but hell, tht would have been a quick hundred bucks I could have used.
Last night, in brief – Krew du Poux, hopping in a shopping cart for the derby of Kaos (which my driver & I lost in quick time due to a handicapped wheel – spilled to the side in no time flat) then after a bit of jumping around and hula-hoop throwing Rich, Clara & I went searching for the nearest open liquor store. finding it and walking back, we met up with the lovely Raven, another friend of Rich’s whose name I can’t bring to mind but was quite delightful, and the Krewe du Zombi – Raven said “We’re going to fuck with the sign holding Christians!” Immidiately, Zombiness washed over and in and the grunts, odd limps, and lust for brains became a part of us…
Honestly, I don’t really recall what happened after that, though I *do* remember the faces of the christians – it was worth every drop of Jim Beam. There were many drops.
Somehow, now, I find myself in my bed, makeup wiped off, clothes hung neatly, alarms set to be awake at a horrible hour that passed by me. Wondering if I should sleep a bit more or get out there to busk – I decide on the former, directly after writing these last few words. It will be a day to remember. The Bourbon must be held in check – only enough to whett the whistle and only slightly lubricate the brain.
At least, that’s the intention…
Watch Good Morning America tomorrow. I just may be on it with Clara.
Just got back from a beautiful day statuing, now fixing makeup and off to the Krew du Poux parade. No time in the madness to speak of the madness, though rest assured it is beautiful – and mad!
Gots to goux.
Last night was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long, long time.
I remembered me, and the fire in my eyes and heart was rekindled, set flaming again. It was beauty and fun and tumbling and Mardi Gras bead bondage and fuck I’m tired so a bit more sleep then off to Jackson Square to perform.
Perhaps some details later.
She asked me that tonight, and I returned with “why what?”
A thousand reasons. A thousand why’s.
A million reasons that I only pretend to know,
and if you ask me something specific, I will tell you all i have made up inside of me. Illusions, beliefs – the things we train ouselves to trust in, in order to not go fucking crazy. Is the truth insanity or bliss? Are they one and the same, just processed differently? I swing from one to the other, far from bi-polar but believing everything and nothing simultaneously. I am able to function because of the walls I was given such strong mortar and bricks to construct as an infant. I have that advantage – I can make everything go away inside as long as the walls are strong enough.
As the years progress, I want to know more, and the walls grow thinner – and this frightens me as much as I delight in it.
The true answers, however, go far beyond these walls. Deeper than I could possibly know, and perhaps deeper than I ever want to be. Still, I search for it, I search for them. I search desperately for the answers that I may never want to know, for the answers to all of the why?s, for a beginning, and eventually an end. i have nothing but the middle, and that is where I must find my peace.
Sometimes I think that “The Now” is nothing but an elaborate escape, as wonderful as it sounds, and is. I’ve been there, and forgotten what I wanted to do, who I never was and who I need to be. It was beauriful, it is peace – but we can’t forget the past though we should never let that prohibit that from who we want to be now, and we need to look towards the future and let it happen for us. There is a peace in this. “Believe in where you’re going, but don’t loose your yesterdays'”. (L&R)
I live with all of my past – it gives me the lessons, the sorrow and joy that I need to be me now. I live with the dreams of the future I want, and create – and listen closely – to my own now to form the future I want. Living solely in ‘The Now’ is bullshit. ‘The Now’ can’t exist – would never exist – without all of the experisnce that make my past mine, forming the now, which, if listened to, creates the roads we must follow for the future.
I carry it all with me, and yes, the load is heavy, but I can’t forget my past – I have some very important promises mad there to myself and other people, many lessons that bring me to the Now – and I will never stop thinking about the future, and manifesting where I want it to go in my present.
‘The Now’ is all time – perhaps that what they (who?) mean, but it sure as hell can never be ‘NOW’. Now is forever, Now has nothing to do with past, present, or future. They’re all one, they’re all the aame, creating the cells which make us who we are. Creating us and what we do. The Karmatic Principle, the Witches Creed, threefold, we are everything, but nothing unless we let it happen and learn.
Why? I don’t know, and perhaps i shouldn’t ask – but fuck you – I want answers.
And I get what I want – because I work really fucking hard for it.
And yeah, Louis began it this morning and I took it where it could go. It was a good day. A very good day.
The lunch crowd was in amazing spirits (of course), all decked out in their Mardi Gras finest, and though there were a few communication glitches whiched caused the front of the house (font waiters & captains)to have heated verbal battles with the back of the house (kitchen manger, chef, and back waiter, me), I merrily rolled along with those, standing aside while people bit each others heads off, laughing to myself and just simply getting the biggest kick out of it. In an atmosphere like that, where everything Needs – without question, to be absolutely perfect, tempers flare when it isn’t and the pressure builds. (Our kitchen manager, whose name is Leonard Skinner, by the way, rocks – by the way.)
Through it all, though, every once in a while, well, more like most of the day, I was grumbling inside about my pay and my own pressures, wondering when I would finally make it to front waiter when it seems like I had been slotted and locked as a back, which is a differerence in tips of almost 90%. This couldn’t go on. The internal dialogues were playing many different scenarios of both walking out and giving my two week notice, as there is a job open at Harry Andersons place (called Oswalds Speakeasy) which is built for me – and be around an amazing magician…
At the end of the day, i approached Mark, the manager and the owners son, asking when the front waiter thing (I think those were my exact words) would happen. He looked at me, asked, “Do you think you’re ready?” and though I wanted to slap his silly face and scream “HELL FUCKING YES I’M READY YOU DAMNED SILLY CUMQUAT! I’VE BEEN READY SINCE I #^(^@^@ *GOT* HERE!!!” I somehow managed to ramain in composure and simply look at him incredulously and say, looking him directly in the eye, “Yes. I sure as hell am.”
So, On Thursday I take the test, pass it, and become a front waiter.
At least, that’s what is planned. Unfortunately at this point I know a bit more about being a back waiter than a few of the front waiters, so there is the possibility of being bounced around – but hell. The money will roll in soon. Really – it had better.
Aaaaaand, to cap off the good day in preperation for a great night, I got my cane! It’s absolutely perfect.
Must run off to start the night now.
When lunch was over and we had set up for the evening,
Drinking my strange cup of morning coffee before an early day at work, I turn on the radio to a station I have grown fond of.
Louis Armstrong, three in a row.
This will be a good day.
Tonight, I went out. There was no choice, I needed to. I needed the air, I needed the people, I needed the walk – and those two beers tasted wonderful, sipped slowly as I listened to anonymous conversations, wrote on the back of a flier, and just. simply. was out of the room.
Was it worth it to spend the few dollars i have so desperately saved for this weeekend, just to taste air, just to be outside, or in a bar with windows and doors wide open? Just to hear other people besides myself talking? Just to know there is something besides these walls.
It was worth everything, and more.
So, I’ll be entirely broke for Mardi Gras weekend. Better to be better and broke now, finally get some rest and be able to breathe again than save that small pittance I formerly posessed, having it sit on the table and doing nothing but propogating the frustration.
I would much rather be happy for the weekends.
Tomorrow is an incredibly busy day for lunch at the restaurant. I’ll see how I do – there is so much that depends on cash-in-pocket right now, and I’m ready to walk in a second if they don’t hold to their end of the agreement.
As high as my hopes were for my first Mardi Gras, I’ve got a feeling that, unless I am able to make some cash statuing…
fuck. whatever. It’s all up to me, but me really prefers cash in his pocket in times like this.
Things were supposed to be different.
What is wrong right now? What do I need to remember?
It answered, “Sowelu”.
(A very brief interpretation because I don’t feel like copying the 2 1/2 pages of the one I have down.}
“Sowelu stands for wholeness, that which our nature requires.
It embodies the impulse towards self realization and indicates
the path you must follow, not from ulterior motives but from
the core of your individuality. A rune of great power, making life
force available to you, Sowelu marks a time for regeneration
down to the cellular level.
What you are striving to be, you already are.
This is the time for recharging and regenerating
yourself. You may have to retreat from pressing
situations, but make it a retreat in strength, not
weakness. Let the Sun illuminate the secrets you hid
even from yourself. Always remember however, that by
yourself you can do nothing. Only when you rely on the
Divine can you accomplish anything of greatness…”
I don’t think I’m asking for much, really – just a full nights’ sleep, waking up early enough to go walk around to get some fresh air and explore a bit, and still have time to get downstairs and get some files scanned before I need to get dressed and go work at the restaurant.
I don’t want to feel like I need to drink in order to fall asleep in this stark apartment, but it seems as if I do. I need to do something about that – I’ve been drinking far too much, and last night decided not to again before Friday.
Got home from the restaurant at Midnight, ate a bit of food, played on the computer, took a bath and read. Around 3am I finally felt I could/should get some rest, so I crawled into bed – and proceeded to try desperately to sleep. Nope – ain’t happenin’. Last time I looked at the clock it was 7am, then must have dozed off for an hour or so as the next time i lookedd at the clock it was 8:30ish. This cycle of erratic and unrestful sleep went on until 1:30, and here I am now, still tired but at least having gotten a little sleep.
I can’t afford to be lethargic working at the restaurant, otherwise I would have forced myself to accept those few hours of sleep and get out of bed around ten to ensure being exhausted by the end of the night tonight.
We’ll see. Not feeling too bright & chipper right now, so it may just happen that way anyway. I don’t like feeling worn down all the time –
but at least I didn’t drink last night.