Fall apart and start again...

How relaxing this weekend has been. I haven't even left the city.

I finished Exile in Guyville by Dave White this morning. God, that book had me howling in laughter in public places, people looking at me like I had lost my mind.

Started The Surrender by Toni Bentley, about half-way through now. Mr. Savage recommended it to me, said our writing was similiar. I've had people say that before, about other authors, but when I've looked at their work, I don't see any similiarities.

...but, oddly, Ms. Bentley's writing style and my own are similiar. We both do that listing word-flow, comma after comma after comma, attempting to catch that moment. It's been weird reading it, but there's enough of a difference in our attitudes so that I don't get too lost in the pages, wondering if I lived this life.

Fortunately, she's on this spiritual bent that I will never follow.

Faith in something... it's never worked for me.

The most faith that I have is in the theory that people will act in their own self-interest, neither good nor bad in nature. And it is with that world-view that I operate.

I did not spend this weekend with GV8. Usually, what I'll do is have a date on Friday night with someone, a date on Saturday afternoon, then go out with GV8 on Saturday night, which will translate into Sunday morning and afternoon, the two of us running around Hollywood, occasionally dropping into Los Angeles, until I drag my carcass home. We don't get to see each other that often because of his business.

So I stayed in town this weekend. I went to dinner with a friend, as previously mentioned, at a bar so now I know that if I feel like wrangling myself a tattooed rocker boy, I can drop in there. I do love a man with a lot of ink.

And I went to a semi-farmer's market thing this morning.

I haven't been spending a lot of time in this particular part of Southern California. Sure, it's where I grew up, for the most part, but I ejected out of the familiar fairly fast.

So I'm wandering around, looking at all these people, mostly dads and their offspring, and I walk by this girl.

Oh, look at that. It's one of the bitches from high school. Captain of the flag team, the all girl's choir team president... VP, whatever. Something. She went out of her way to give me as much crap as she possibly could... I still don't know what I did to offend her so much that she gunned for me all three years I attended that school.

She never left this town.

She married a guy who was a grade above her.

When they were dating, years ago, I overheard him trash-talking her at a Starbucks.

I see this girl who used to be so fit, so aggressive, with such a toned, athletic body and this healthy, wild, curly hair, and these sharp, angry brown eyes as she strode around the school, queen of the band nerds and colorguard.

She has not aged well.

It looks like someone took several pairs of nylons, stuffed the legs with waterballoons, and wrapped them haphazardly around her body. Her fat hangs and bunches in pools. She has a waddle around her neck, that wobbles when she talks, bulges when she lowers her chin. She's probably five years away, max, from having that pile of fat that some women store above their cunt. Her hair is piled up on her head looking like a tangled mass of hairy upchuck. She's wearing bug-eyes sunglasses, jeans that are making her muffintop, and double-layered tank tops that show every misplaced roll on her body.

It was pretty damn sad.

Her husband was with her. He has aged better. He was always nice to me, when we spoke. I never understood how he could tolerate her, find her essence, that of the Bitch, attractive. I just walked by them, no words.

I'm five, maybe ten pounds max, heavier than I was when I quit high school.

I'm travelling all over the place, meeting amazing people, doing things I never even heard of before they were proposed to me. I have friends all over the place, people I've met through various means, people that have become dear to me. I'm keeping active. I'm working on myself, working on my body, on my mind, constantly. I tear through books, movies, and music, searching for more to learn. I talk to strangers constantly throughout the day because interacting with someone new will teach you something, maybe about yourself, maybe about the world. But you'll learn. I'm going back to school, finally driving towards one of my dream jobs, and focusing so much on my writing. I'm recognizing fears and things that have held me back and I'm doing it for myself. Because I can be better. Because I should be better.

Never flatline.

Never stagnate.

You're in the moment now. You can sit and wait for something to happen, you can backslide, or you can walk forward.

I choose to go forward.

Because there is so much more I can be.

Just watch.