non-existence

I set my alarm for 6:00am, but wake up to procrastination. I want so badly to stay in bed, to delay reality a little longer. I just need a little longer in my cocoon of pillows, sheets and down comforter. But I have to pee, which makes this early morning slumber a kind of torture. I feel a headache coming on, too. Better get up. I walk hunched over to the bathroom, trying to breathe deeply. I’m peeing, lights off, eyes closed. I’m thinking of nothing but going back to bed, but know that I’ll regret it. I need this to be a good day. Good days and bad days, it’s all on me. Of course, I go back to bed. My mind wanders: sex, worry, memories. Why can’t my mind wander towards beautiful things? I want rainbows and mountain tops, dammit! The alarm goes off again and then I’m listening to the NPR. Oh, they’re asking for money. “If you listen, you really should give.” I feel guilty, but I don’t call and I never will. It’s 6:30am and I’ve really got to get up this time. I’ve thought about getting some beautiful and motivating morning rituals, but it never worked out. Think positively: Obama is President, I’m not dead, birds are singing. Here we go, another day. Shower, shave, coffee, fart, toast, get dressed. God, getting dressed! The process takes at least thirty minutes. Maybe it’s because I don’t have anything to wear. Fags are supposed to have cute clothes, but I don’t have any cute clothes. Except for those super tight black pants that I bought on sale. Those pants are going to change my life. And when I wear them with those new lizard skin shoes, my life will become phenomenal. But I don’t want to think about the lizard. So I read The Illiad instead. I know I can make it through one chapter, just one little chapter. I get into it for a second, the Trojans and Achians acting all silly stupid, but grand and great at the same time. Then my mind wanders, and then it wanders some more. And then, and then, I’m running late. Forget about The Illiad, where are my freaking keys, because I have got to go?! Why does this happen everyday? I get up hours before school and then I’m rushing at the last minute. First I’m going this way, and then I’m going that way. Keys, wallet, gum, lip balm, cell phone, books, notebook. One last look in the mirror and I’m ready to go. But do I check the BART schedule? Of course not! Still, one hour later and I’m at school, on-time, early even. All that rushing for this? But look at those beautiful trees-that makes it worth it every time. When I get there I feel a mix of dread and excitement. Dread for, well, everything, and excitement for the glimpses of the possibility of something meaningful that school provides. In my first class there’s the girl with the pink-latex shoes who likes to complain about everything. But with shoes like that I’m thinking what does she have to complain about? Did I mention that I hate the shoes that I’m wearing. They make me feel hideous-big, bulky, masculine. Yuck! I contemplate going home to change, but that would take two hours, so I decide to tough it out. We’re talking about the female nude in European oil painting and how women are overly conscious of themselves because of the male gaze. But I’m thinking, I’m overly conscious and I’m not a woman. So, really living in male dominated society screws up feminine people in general which does not include all women, nor exclude all men. Life is so complicated these days. After class I have a granola bar to take the edge off. But do I really want to take the edge off? Next class and there’s pink-latex shoe girl, again. I sit on the other side of the room, but I can still hear the conversation. They’re called “jellies” and they’re so easy to clean. The class is so not interesting, but I make it interesting by turning my notebook into a work of art. I only take notes in graphic novel form now. I’m going to publish it as soon as the semester is over. I’m so creative! Maybe I can find a boyfriend now? No, never. Whatever. Finally, I get to eat lunch, but what do I want? A gardenburger sounds good so I indulge. It’s greasy, yet dry, but I eat it all in five minutes. There’s another bad habit-eating too fast. Spend $190 on books, but still haven’t spent enough to get my $25 gift card. I’ll be back tomorrow, thanks. Books for school should be guilt-free shopping, but still I feel like I’m wasting my money. I feel like that’s all I’m doing everyday-wasting my money. I console myself with coffee and music. I listen to Of Montreal and copy down the song lyrics for later use. Here’s one line that I like: “freaked out the mountain goats but they were not impressed.” I don’t know what it means and I guess that’s why I like it. My next class was canceled but I didn’t know it until I climbed the five flights of stairs and met pink-latex shoe girl stomping her foot in faux-anger. She just hates it when teachers cancel class. Boo-hoo-hoo, honey. Then I’m on MUNI staring at people and then they’re staring at me, and we’re all in a fishbowl and then I’m thinking about Jules Verne for some reason. As soon as I get home I check my e-mail, and then Facebook, and then, and then, oh god, yes, it’s true, Craigslist! Nothing like those Craigslist days and Craigslist nights to take away the pain. I hear on the radio that loneliness causes bad circulation. I go out for a walk to get my blood pumping. I meet a new neighbor. I do my laundry. I write this autobiography. I accomplish something, anything.