Torture.

There was this perfect night some years ago, maybe four now.  I stood on a stage in a basement and told real stories from a period in my life called college.  I've never been one to structure my life into periods, or chapters, or whatever, but it always seems to end up that way.  And like a good college boy, my experience was founded firmly on nothing.  On that vastly unstable ground that is change.

So I told stories about falling in love and learning about parasites.  I sang Canadian a capella from the '90s and I read what some might call Poetry.  Writing which almost all came from this font of inspiration, this b-log.  And people laughed.  We broke down that 4th wall and a crowd of 20 or 30 people laughed.  I laughed too, because when people are laughing you should laugh too, or it looks weird.  In my experience if you aren't laughing, you are probably going to be punched in the stomach fairly soon.

A few months later an acquaintance started up a conversation with, "Oh, I saw you do stand-up once.  It was pretty funny."  Having no filter for honesty, I replied with "It wasn't stand-up, just true stories from life that everyone laughed at."

"I know, but it was funny!"

Anyway, honesty has been a big part of my life just as much as obfuscation has been.  It comes with being just smart enough to never really be honest with anyone.  It comes with being afraid.

I was trying to keep myself busy this weekend in Coos Bay, Oregon, because I don't have any friends.  I shouldered a kayak my Dad helped me find to my shoulder, and paddled away.  Have you ever gotten bored during an athletic activity?  In the middle of a large body of salt water, birds that I could name making their bird noises and flitting about on that rare day in February when the sun comes out and the temperature is about 60 degrees?

The indication right now is that if my boots aren't on and I'm not out the door 20 minutes after I'm awake, I'm not running up to par.  My twitter personality has morphed.  It's my gauge of self.  A screaming ego, or is it id?  Anyway it says those feelings I really feel.  Those lonely feelings.  I hate it down here.  I really can't say anymore right now.  It's torture and I can't wait for the day that I have another opportunity elsewhere.

-DMK