had to go to Albany today. on the way home, found myself staring at a Denny's in Hartford in front of the thruway.

funny the things we try to forget.

in 96, ten years ago, i was sitting in that very place, eating hot fudge cake sundaes (you know, the ones they used to sell, before they switched to brownies?) ...smothered in hot fudge. it was late, about midnight-ish, and roughly forty miles from where we were going to college.

when i say *we* i am not referring to the royal we. it was with a woman i just so happened to be secretly in love with who i called Tigger, for her orange hair and exuberant spirit.
..heather..
a year later it would be bleached and replaced with blue, complimenting her soft hues, but hardening her heart. we hung out every day between Denny's and then, and it all hit me at once again as i passed...

its three days to my birthday, and im brought to remember now, how my mother swore till her dying day that she wanted one of those hot fudge cake sundaes, along with a carton of smokes, in her coffin.

pan back one year. about this time, all i can say is dural av fistula and gates.

go back another year. in three days, i would find out my mother had cancer. i didn't even see her on that day: 'i need a day off', and took liberties with the selfishness of my birthday. i promised her i would come to see her, but she was hardly awake anymore. i never saw her again. she died the day following.

funerals are expensive. my father, after getting the most inexpensive casket, a family plot, and services- had no money for an entire carton. besides, she died from lung failure, anyways. so... i got her that sundae. even put it in a Tupperware container so she could have it at her leisure. don't think the funeral director believed my asking for its allowance, until i brought it in and saw her stifle a laugh. suppose there is some humor in death. even as a mortician.
that laugh carried me through the rest of the day. it was just the way my mother affected people. you had no choice but to remember her. to stare a gasp at the absurdity of her. there was never middle ground- love her or hate her.

i was an asshole to her the entire time she was dying. i kept calling her a jackass. i just wanted her to be angry, so she would stop being so weak. she was always at her strongest when angry. i realize now how weak i was. i promised i would be there for her on my birthday. the day before she died. the last day she had. and i squandered it. every promise i made to her before she died i could not sustain. every one. what i would give to get ten years back.

so i pulled over and had myself a good cry. somewhere on the thruway between utica and syracuse, in the company van. gods, i fucking hate my birthday.

blessed are the single minded, for they know nothing of their limits.

recently, i have been comparing my (would-be) love life to that of a Möbius strip. being one-dimensional, it is all inclusive and rather limited- although infinite, paradoxically. it spans within its boarders, trailing endlessly. to exist in one dimensional space would allow travel to any time or location.

and here i am. more correctly, we are. i look to the forward me; and i, we, they look back at who i was, am, and shall be. side by side we sit. we always have. the many things outside this space move around the boarders coalescing and forming, but never permeating or sublimating. the actions of the past/present/future have all been within me, change being something matrons whisper to three dimensional offspring. all within me...

eyes shut, the expanse of my will fills the void. consciousness cascading and parsing itself through me, i feel so endless and open. eyes closed- self reigns and the hammer of subjective paradigm holds no sway. its here that my *self* resides, in this limitless/contradictory vessel, free of the simple carbon strands that bind me to that place which will never be real enough.

allen street








chippewa








hyatts


linwood




our hero- yours truely


SHUTDOWN!




summer

took some pics tonight. ill post em tommorow when i have the time.

oh my god. two days later, and im starting to feel the pain of the pound cheeseburger, onion rings/fries, halfa milkshake, and two sodas i had on monday at cheeburgercheeburger. and that was just for lunch. i think i may have some crazy eating disorder where i just can't get full. has anyone ever heard of such a thing?






then, after you have gorged yourself on bovine gristle, they come out with aformentioned (in image!) pretend burger. they commence to announce your slothenliness to the rest of the diner. there is clapping and the flashing of camerabulbs.

so yeah. doing that, then eating the leftovers of somone elses meal about an hour later- coupled with playing dodgeball till you are sweaty and then standing out in the cold is apparently enough to make me sick for some reason. muscles are sore from coughing.

so what did i do? i took offa work today. i may not be that sick, but id rather take my chances on getting better before i get worse. my boss is cool enough to let me just change my schedual on the fly like that and come in on another one of my days off. so thats what im doing. no way i would be able to work with the combined acid reflux/coughing/sore throat/sore muscles i have today. i can hardly sleep as it is, but im gonna try.

anyone wanna bring me some chiken soup? :P