keeping my cold cocked

of course it's good to be home. it usually is. in fact, nearly everything about being here has been good. so far. what's odd is that the best part has been driving home. i was easy today, which was wonderful since after the speeding ticket last week i don't need to be driving fast. so i didn't. i hung out on the right side of the road and kept to seven or nine over the whole time. it's nice to feel relaxed for a change. the sun was out and warmed my belly. my sleeves sat halfway up my forearms. no hat, black aviators. smiling to motorists.

but it was the music. the music. my soul stretched from deep roots. long stored in the way down deep down. it was ben folds who set it free. an long old mix tape that i haven't listened to in a year but am so familiar with that i still know almost every single word. still surprised i know almost every word. {it's such an angry night, hard to write about joy} speakers dancing to almost breaking point. fuzzy bass, i love it to death. and i'd drive along, easy and free, yelping those words in as high a register as i could manage. and i'm surprised at how good it sounds in my head sometimes. how punky my voice gets. how smoothly i hit those notes before i crack. high or low. it's like all these long, lonely car trips have paid off in the form of a semblance of a singing voice. i know it's not true. my sound blends in with ben and the band. i've never liked my timbre and probably never will. i live with it. screaming to the sun, though. mouth wide singing the tenor sax and trumpet parts. doesn't matter who saw me. there was just the highway, the sky, the speakers, and the happy fool behind the wheel. if you had seen it, you would have smiled too.

i hit a traffic jam on the interstate outside raleigh, heading to meet my mother and sister for pizza. i was into repeating so i replaced the folds mix with a new josh ritter album i ordered a couple days ago. it was also spectacular, just something i didn't know the words to yet. the second song, about an outlaw waiting to be killed by someone out to get him, contains my new favorite line of music: "i'll be keepin' my cold cocked". of course i can't really provide context but trust me, it's badass.

tonight is so angry. i don't know if it's tampa being a fucking mystical city of upsets or what but people are acting mad at me and i'm mad at anyone i don't love. eh, it will be ok. i'll eat cake in a minute and forget all of it. i don't feel like i write as much about what i think as what i've done. i don't like that. it's getting away from who i used to be. i don't like that at all. i should work on that.

spesso sent me a text tonight. we hadn't spoken since the party monday. she asked how home was. i thought about not responding but i'm not as mad at her anymore. not since i realized she does actually give a shit. and i won't lie. every time i get a text message, i check and see if it's her face on the screen. i'm a little disappointed every time it's a little envelope graphic. a little shocked and excited and hesitant when it's her. reminds me of three weeks ago. it's a remnant of believing there was something there. i miss it. i miss it so much. back before she was dating my roommate. that's the only thing that bothers me. i can forgive her for everything if they'd break up and we could all be normal again. i still can't fathom the two of them. i can't walk in the room and see her giggling on his bed. i can't hear him pick up the phone and say "hey you". it's too new, not distant enough to be comfortable with. that's why i can't make peace, not yet. i can't speak to her or be close to her. i can't see her or spend time with her alone. i'll remember why i wanted her in the first place. i'll find those false cues that confused me in the first place. that just makes it worse. i was kind though. i responded and mentioned that i was writing. she likes that. i hoped she had a good time at the beach this weekend {another trip i wasn't invited on, although i wouldn't have gone anyway}.

my old human physiology professor thinks i might have a torn lateral meniscus or lateral collateral ligament in my right knee. so that's exciting...

i can't be interesting anymore tonight. i'll just end up talking about her more. it's my escape when i don't have anything better to say. how sad is that? some writer i'd make.