I wonder on these days, that I get to wander around, how much longer this can sustain itself…
Not so much the city, but me.
I don’t know if I have the faith in the “it’ll be alright, it always is” mantra anymore.
So, the previous opening lines were from an unfinished entry started on June 23rd, 2014.
I was being quite melodramatic.
So, I sit here at my desk and I begin to write. I begin to write what I was thinking on my way home as I rode my bike. I’m at a crossroads in my life. That place where I have to think about what comes next. I’ve spent the last three and a half years unemployed and under employed (not all of it entirely by choice), going to school and trying to push my life and career in a more personally fulfilling and individually authentic way. It’s been a success for the most part. I feel more in tune with who I am and what I want. And I consider that a success of no small means.
As I came off my last stint of work I felt extremely empowered and set off with a newly restored sense of direction setting my intentions high and with the resolve to settle for nothing less than what I wanted job-wise. We live in an age of self-realization and high minded positivity. We’re told by gurus and spiritualist, self-help career and lifestyle coaches alike that if we set our intentions clearly all things will come to us. I’m not sure I believe that in this moment. I’ve confronted many an internal issue over the last three and a half years. I’ve looked deep inside what makes me me and I feel I’ve come to terms with a lot of things that hold me back. I’ve accepted and come to terms with what I can, knowing that I am always a work in progress. I can only be responsible for myself and my actions in the moment I am in.
When I went to Burning Man a couple years ago and I spent a lot of time in the temple. There is a lot of quiet meditation that happens in there. There is also a lot of sharing that happens in there. People come together to talk about what holds them back, people that they’ve lost, things they’d like to let go of and they write most of this down and put it in the nooks and crannies of the structure so when it burns they can let those things burn with it. I went through this process. I feel upon reflection I thought I was taking it seriously, but in reality it was a bit superficial, I didn’t really get it. I wrote some things that I wanted to release. I was having a lot of the thoughts I am today, or that I’ve had recently. Being without work can do this to you. A continuous cycle of who, what, where, when, why putting you in a tail spin of self-doubt. I remember crying when I wrote a lot of those things down. I’m not crying now. I don’t feel sorry for myself. I don’t feel like I’m being tested. I don’t feel like the reason I’m where I am at the moment is because I don’t know what I want.
So why am I writing all this you may ask? I have eight days. Eight days to figure out what to do. How to pay my back rent. How to ensure that I can continue to pay my rent in the future. How to pay my bills. How to get myself out of this financial hole that I currently reside in. After three and a half years my will power is giving out. I’ve pushed forward this agenda that I’ve had through sheer will power alone at times and I cannot do it anymore. My resources have dwindled. I’ve come to the end of the road. This next week is going to seal the fate of where I am going to call home for a while. I may have to leave LA. I may end up with my family. I’m not really sure at this moment. But things are going to drastically change for myself in the next week. They have to. And I want to try and have as much control over what that is as much as I possibly can. I keep pulling the rabbit out of the hat, but this time I’m not sure what is going to happen. I do know that whatever does happen I’ll be ok. I’m not afraid. I don’t feel alone. And I will do what has to be done.
It was a lovely Sunday in December for a photo shoot on the beach,
70° with some high clouds.
The day had a distinct lemony meringue feel to it. A familiar childhood comfort food memory. Or an 80’s television show.
I use to come to this beach when I was strung out.
Those were very different wintery Sundays when my brain felt a little like taffy. I relished the non sequitur fluidity, the free association that was the companion of drugs and no sleep.
But on this day, there would be no Scooby snacks.
There were clothes and props. A teepee. And a crew and their model.
Why did I do it?
I can as much answer that question as much as I know why my cats like to go in the cupboard.
It was comfortable.
Although I don’t think the later comes into the cats decision making.
I’m not sure I know what that means.
Biking Los Angles at night is invigorating, to say the least.
Just get me on the bike before I have a chance to think twice about it.
And I’ll shout more useless LA trivia at you than you need.
Or want. Or already know.
But, you already knew that.
I want to go south. You say the direction I’m pointing is east.
This gives the implication to not trust my sense of direction.
This might be the right sensation.
I promise I’ll get you were you need to go.
I mean, I know I’ll get to where I’m going.
It was another movie in the cemetery. Cinespia is the summer time tradition.
The walk back to Meg and Sergio’s was a bit blurry, marked with a vomitous punctuation in someone’s front yard.
” ‘Now, ask what the Great Conjunction is, what’s the Great Conjunction?’
‘What’s the Great Conjunction? You tell me!’
‘THE GREAT CONJUNCTION IS THE END OF THE WORLD! Or the beginning. HmmmMMM!’ ”