i feel like going home.

friday night. spent it ripping cds, listening to the friday night lights soundtrack. i made chocolate chip cookies with my mom, talked about rich trying to buy a house. there's no rush. i sat at the table with a plateful of rice, chicken, celery and potatoes, thinking, i literally have all the time in the world to eat this. still, i finished it in under fifteen minutes.

i'm in a better mood. today was one of those days that doesn't feel completed wasted, even though, technically, it was. i raked up some more leaves for my garden, threw brambles and broke down wood for the compost pile. i wish i had a wood chipper. and some worms would help, too. maybe i'll ask for earthworms this christmas. no, i really want a tree in the front yard. one that will grow large enough to shade the entire neighborhood.

i have these thoughts sometimes. like, what if i never do anything amazing with my life? what if i never write one damn good story, or ever have my fifteen minutes. i thought about how some of my fifteen minutes might have been used up already. maybe the fifteen minutes isn't consecutive; just broken moments that add up. like the time i swatted michael garcia, an eighth grader, when i was in seventh grade. he challenged me. it was beautiful. he looked straight at me, pointed, and said, rather arrogantly, "i want him." i shrugged my shoulders, and said, fine. he drove in for the lay-up, and i rejected the shit out of him. it was pretty amazing, since some people (okay, namely the girls) were watching. a total of eight seconds, perhaps?

another time i kicked a basketball the full length of our court, and it went in. five seconds of fame, unless you count my classmates talking about it the rest of the day.

a handful of spelling bees where i was the number one speller. total of forty-five seconds?

may 26, 2001. graduating from jesuit. an eternity of bliss.

i had a sickening thought earlier today, though. maybe all i want is to work, pay off debt, pay my taxes and exit this miserable place. i know that's not true, though.

my mom gives me inspiration. she hates her job and wants to retire, but remaining subversive keeps her going. she tells me about how she raids the stock room for diapers, wipes, formula, and always gives shitloads of it away to the poor, while warning them, "don't tell anyone. i could lose my job." i want to be able to do that for people, too.

i told her about when i delivered food to people through the red cross. how unbearable it was to go in some of these people's apartments because they smelled so awful. or how cluttered, dark, and depressing the places were. places that said, i no longer now how to live or why. i believe it's the sad reality everywhere. not just north highlands, like my mom suggested. i'm sure these places exist in the apartment complexes across the street. in mexico, africa, the philippines, it's all so obvious. people live in shitty cardboard boxes and starve everyday. here in the u.s. it's all hidden. all this poverty, all these horrible conditions are all neatly wrapped under the guise of "affordable" or "low-income" housing. it kills me. there's no other way of putting it.

on that note, i'd like to ride bicycles around my neighborhood sometime in the early evening while playing yo la tengo's "i feel like going home," from a loudspeaker. who would care to join me?

1 comment:

Toby Shuster said...

i like that bit about the 15 min.