(6/30/21)
This chick asked for a piece of my taco when I was at work the other day. She said she just wanted a little bit, from the back of it, so I tore a piece from the back of the taco and gave it to her. I was eating a three dollar chicken taco with cilantro and onion. I think there are other fillings available, like carne asada or something, but I can never hear what the lady in the food truck is saying so I just go with chicken because I’m definitely sure chicken is an option. It wasn’t the first time someone commented on something I was eating while at work. The week before the other door girl and I were allowed to take a little break and get a drink so we got tequila pineapples but I’m pretty sure they were mostly tequila. So after crowdsurfing for the first time in my life and someone most definitely grabbing my left titty I was kind of drunk and therefore hungry so I got a chicken torta from the same food truck. I was definitely eating it pretty messily because I remember getting sauce all over my hands and not having a napkin. There are few things that compare to the bliss of eating when you’re intoxicated. Someone came up later after the show and asked where I got it because they said it looked like I was enjoying it a lot.
I also have bruises on both my hips from carrying around the ladder that I use to change the marquee sign. I saw them in the mirror today, two symmetrical hib bruises. It’s crazy how many guys will come ask to carry your ladder for you when you’re carrying a ladder. I’m not sure if it’s because I look like I’m struggling with it or because the rules of male chivalry dictate that they must. I like the view from the top of the ladder. Honestly the first time I was kind of scared but now I don’t feel like I’m going to die anymore. I feel more alive instead. The area around the marquee smells like shit. I don’t know why. I think the sewage pipes are nearby or maybe it has something to do with all the backs of the food trucks lined up facing me or the fact that dudes come and piss in the bushes behind the food trucks.
Speaking of shit, I started a new book—I’m really bad at finishing books—called Gut, by Giulia Enders. I watched a YouTube video on my Recommended by this girl who was describing, honestly I forget what she was describing, I think what she ate, and she recommended this book. I haven’t gotten to the part about shit yet but the writing is really good and informative. Some books filter your mind in subtle ways, like there’s not a profound wow when you finish it, like when I read How To Do Nothing, but then later you’ll be walking around and you’ll think hey this reminds me of that thing I read and then it’ll happen again and again and again. The same thing can be said of people you meet.
Speaking of which, it’s important to be a good footnote. I mean, to be a good footnote in the peoples’ lives who you really have only a small part in. A good footnote, or a good aside, a good parenthetical clause. It’s hard to be an extremely perfect chapter of a person, but it’s easier to be a good footnote.
I’ve also realized the importance of not carrying things around in your head. It’s much more important to set up systems outside to remind yourself of things that way you don’t have to remind yourself constantly to do things or complete tasks. I’m trying to use a whiteboard, because I love the fact that any remnant of a previous task is scraped away forever. I like it like that.
I’ve been trying more alternative lime chips. After the brutal disappointment of the Bush’s bean chips, there was only one direction to go and that was up. The serving sizes for the chips I found were surprisingly all the same and contained the same number of calories. I don’t know if this is market competition for alternative lime flavored chips, of which there is already a small market, but I am determined to be its connoisseur.
Beanitos. The lime flavor was subtle here. If you’ve ever eaten too many Lay’s Limon chips, you know that at some point you reach a threshold where eating another chip actually gives you physical pain on the roof of your mouth. This does not apply to the Beanito’s Hint of Lime chips. The hint of lime is truly a hint: it’s the La Croix of alternative lime chips. I found a little black piece of char at the bottom of the bag and I ate it and it tasted like cigarette smoke.
Grain Free. I liked these ones. They were jalapeno lime. The flavor was strong, the chip was good, they were the first to go at my house. Recommended.
Beanfields. These ones weren’t lime flavored because I couldn’t find that variety at H-E-B but I promise the texture is good. They just feel heavier somehow. Less crackly. Like a good bean chip should be. You know it’s beans. I can’t wait to get my hands on the holy grail of the Beanfields, the Jalapeno Lime variety.
Do you want to know what the appendix does. When you have diarrhea that wipes out the bacteria in your body, it replenishes the good bacteria. I think, don’t quote me on that. Read Gut if you really want to know.
Crazy that clouds exist, they’re so pretty. If anything has ever suggested to me that what we’re living in isn’t real at all, or somehow designed, it’s clouds. Clouds should not be real. They’re sublime. Whenever I look at a really good cloud, I understand what feeling Claude-Joseph Vernet was trying to get at in his landscapes.
You are not entirely yours. You are a host to a bunch of bacteria and privy to the hormonal ups and downs of your glands and to the environment and to the random firing of neurons that light up your subconscious brain. That makes me wonder where willpower comes from. Alan Watts said something like, once you figure out it’s you who is pumping your blood, at the same time you learn that it’s also you who is shining the stars. Willpower is everything and nothing. Willpower and absolute lack of willpower coexist—it just depends on your perspective. There is no line drawn anywhere.
Can you actually feel your muscles hug your bones? It’s important to pay attention to your body. Trying to feel it. I mean you can’t feel the smooth muscle that governs your small intestine and you can’t control your immune response.
They are playing Ecco2k in this coffee shop. Honestly I begin to love this coffeeshop more every day. While I was writing this post at the coffeeshop, someone came up and offered me a free Red Bull so I was drinking a latte and a Red Bull at the same time. They really do their best to caffeinate you. Ecco2k has the voice of an angel, if that angel worked at a recycling plant. There’s this song by Bladee and Ecco2k that I really like, “Vanilla Sky,” and it goes like: “Feel my muscles hug my bones / This body won’t hold my soul / Nobody will touch my soul.” That song makes me feel like I’m leaving my body, like “Rainbow” also by Bladee. A different song that gives me different feelings also has a line about bones—“Best to You” by Blood Orange: “I feel my bones I feel my bones I feel my bones crack in your arms.” You can’t actually feel your bones inside of you. I guess you can feel your bones crack, but that’s it. It would be lit to have the bones on the outside of our body, like an exoskeleton. Like a turtle where the ribs are the shell. Or a bug. But for now I just get to feel my bones rattle in my body when I play a song with really good bass in my car, like that one song by Ecco2k, “Peroxide.” I’m pretty sure I’m ruining my hearing by working at this music venue.
On that day that I crowdsurfed, later I was looking for the second half of my torta, which I left in the office, but it was gone. The door to the office is rarely locked so someone could’ve just come in and taken the other half of my torta.
There’s that sculpture, where it’s just a pedestal put upside down on the ground, it’s called Base of the Earth. It makes the world into a monument. That’s an interesting effect to think about—you stick a candle in the ground, the world is a birthday cake. Put two slices of bread on opposite sides of the globe, it’s a sandwich.
There’s a thin line between truth and untruth. It’s hard to parse out and find. There are hopeful truths. There are phrases that help you get at the truth, but they are not the truth themselves. Things like Co Star and such make me think of these things. Like astrology. Psychologically some things feel true or if you think about them they become more true.
I’m not full of very many profundities today, haven’t been epiphanizing too much lately. I have been doing a terrible job of keeping a daily schedule, and I haven’t read a lot of new material. I figure maybe for the next month I’ll try to meditate regularly or induce some weird dreams or make a sensory deprivation tank in my bathtub and maybe I’ll end up talking to God or making a brilliant piece of artwork like Grimes when she wrote Visions by locking herself in the basement without food or sleep, instead high on speed for three weeks. Or maybe I can do something like Bon Iver did when he wrote For Emma, Forever Ago, where he went to a cabin after he got mono and a liver infection to write his first album after he spiraled into self-described mediocrity. It looks like the path to success involves ridiculous forms of self-torture. That’s how you reach success. Success in terms of money and fame, anyway. But nobody’s satisfied on money and fame. But personal growth, I guess. That’s what Bon Iver got. The cabin escape is a trope I’ll never get tired of.
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *
Comment *
Name *
Email *
Website
Post Comment