Saturday, 8/18, 11:18 AM Go.
Saturday, 8/18, 11:21 AM Curtain.
Saturday, 8/18, 11:22 AM Feeling. (good)
Saturday, 8/18, 11:23 AM Discussion.
Saturday, 8/18, 12:45 PM Go. (different go)
Saturday, 8/18, 12:46 PM Discussion. (more of the same)
Saturday, 8/18, 1:01 PM Feeling. (bad)
Saturday, 8/18, 1:02 PM Discussion. (more of the same)
Saturday, 8/18, 3:31 PM Arrive.
Saturday, 8/18, 3:32 PM Discussion. (more of the same)
Saturday, 8/18, 3:35 PM Discussion. (same shit different face)
Saturday, 8/18, 3:41 PM Feeling. (bad)
Saturday, 8/18, 4:05 PM Pork. (bad)
Saturday, 8/18, 6:16 PM Smoothie. (good)
Saturday, 8/18, 7:20 PM Gogol. (no visible bordello)
Saturday, 8/18, 8:50 PM Mumford. (no visible children)
Saturday, 8/18, 9:11 PM Feeling. (good)
Sunday, 8/19, 2:22 AM Dinner.
Sunday, 8/19, 12:20 PM Morning. (afternoon)
Sunday, 8/19, 12:21 PM Rest.
Sunday, 8/19, 8:59 PM Nothing.
Sunday, 8/19, 11:48 PM Discussion. (new)
Monday, 8/20, 9:18 AM Nothing.
Monday, 8/20, 11:31 AM Email. (insights)
Monday, 8/20, 5:12 PM Nothing.
Monday, 8/20, 6:06 PM Chat. (insights)
Monday, 8/20, 7:15 PM Nothing.
Monday, 8/20, 8:11 PM Nothing.
Monday, 8/20, 8:50 PM Feeling. (intense)
Tuesday, 8/21, 1:22 AM Nothing.
Tuesday, 8/21, 9:32 AM Email. (insights)
Tuesday, 8/21, 9:33 AM Nothing.
Tuesday, 8/21, 10:25 AM Nothing.
Tuesday, 8/21, 10:47 AM Nothing.
Tuesday, 8/21, 11:17 AM Connection. (insights)
Tuesday, 8/21, 11:24 AM Nothing.
Tuesday, 8/21, 11:28 AM Pork. (good)
Tuesday, 8/21, 1:22 PM Pool. (great)
Tuesday, 8/21, 6:21 PM Rejection. (nothing)
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Out of the Closet
I've been hiding something. During all of this conspicuous silence for the last two weeks, I've been writing non-stop, but not in this blog. Instead, I've been doing some serious soul searching, looking inward for answers about who I am in my deepest parts. I've been making progress in bringing the real me to the surface, but I've kept that progress well under wraps.
Until tonight. Tonight, I was biking through Boystown when I realized I needed to admit my innermost thoughts and feelings to the world. Below is my best attempt to do so, though I must admit, it's all still very unclear to me and may remain so for quite a while. In the simplest possible terms:
I've felt different than everyone else for as long as I can remember--my whole life, I guess. Even when I moved out of the South and into New England, when I started finding people who were "like me," the whole me still just didn't fit somehow. Then I moved to Chicago, and I started noticing people that made me feel, well, funny inside. It wasn't attraction, really, or even kinship, but rather a funny sort of half-belonging, a hunch even, an intuition that perhaps one day, ultimately, I might have a home here.
I guess all of this is to say that I think I might be--or might could be, anyway--a Neo-Futurist. I might in fact already, on the inside, be more Neo-Futurist than non-Neofuturist, anyway. I'm just not sure. I need to do more soul-searching.
Specifically, I need to soul search this Saturday at 11:18 AM CST in front of the current Neo-Futurist ensemble. And then think a little more and maybe panic a little and definitely, like with any situation, hope that it all works out for the best.
Anyway, if I'm writing down what it's like to be "regular," then I have to admit here that I'm, well, I'm in the dark, and I'm scared, I guess. Something like scared. "Scared shitless" is maybe a better term for it. It's a hard feeling to put into words.
Wait. Nope. No, it's not. Scared shitless was just about right.
Until tonight. Tonight, I was biking through Boystown when I realized I needed to admit my innermost thoughts and feelings to the world. Below is my best attempt to do so, though I must admit, it's all still very unclear to me and may remain so for quite a while. In the simplest possible terms:
I've felt different than everyone else for as long as I can remember--my whole life, I guess. Even when I moved out of the South and into New England, when I started finding people who were "like me," the whole me still just didn't fit somehow. Then I moved to Chicago, and I started noticing people that made me feel, well, funny inside. It wasn't attraction, really, or even kinship, but rather a funny sort of half-belonging, a hunch even, an intuition that perhaps one day, ultimately, I might have a home here.
I guess all of this is to say that I think I might be--or might could be, anyway--a Neo-Futurist. I might in fact already, on the inside, be more Neo-Futurist than non-Neofuturist, anyway. I'm just not sure. I need to do more soul-searching.
Specifically, I need to soul search this Saturday at 11:18 AM CST in front of the current Neo-Futurist ensemble. And then think a little more and maybe panic a little and definitely, like with any situation, hope that it all works out for the best.
Anyway, if I'm writing down what it's like to be "regular," then I have to admit here that I'm, well, I'm in the dark, and I'm scared, I guess. Something like scared. "Scared shitless" is maybe a better term for it. It's a hard feeling to put into words.
Wait. Nope. No, it's not. Scared shitless was just about right.
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