Reading harold_maude's journal

I've been listening to Tom Waits for the last couple of days, and watched the "Kill Bill" movies as well.
Intersting combination. I've come to the conclusion that I would really love to be able to discribe things like Tom Waits, and have the focus of the woman who kills out of revenge in the movies. Take away the revenge part, and just have the focus part.

I thought about that for a while this morning and decited that I would like to be able to discribe things like Tom Waits but I wouldn't want to be a carbon copy of him.
That happens sometimes when a person comes across another person and their work and it's so inspiring that they begin to try to shape their lives to be just like that person.

It would be wonderful if I could traslate all the momentary flashes of perfection that go floating by, and make them real...take one teaspoon gunpowder and one heaping cup of vision and add water and you have instant thing.

Would be nice, but then I would miss all the cool clods of dirt that end up in my mouth as I go skidding across the highway of life trying to figure out what kind of job suits me.

I would miss all the moments of stress that hit that make me feel so out of control that I want to put some violent music on and beat the walls and anything else standing in my way.
And take all thoes other people who are no different than me and put them on a desert island for a few weeks so they wake up from the hypnoitc state of uniformity that every corporation is trying desperately to stuff every human into from the moment of conception.

I would miss the cliff hanger walks that I take on a regular basis everytime I find myself in no mans land of trying to figure this stuff out.
I would really miss the journey and discoverey that happens, and I really do like that part. The pain is something I could do with out, but then pain is part of life, in one way or another.

Sometimes I wish answers were as easy to come by as making coffee.
But being who I am, they never are. I have learned to look at things and depending on how they go, using them as a way to find out what I'm really suited for to make a living from.

Sometimes a job that doesn't last is just a bridge that you end up on so you can cross a swollen river and not drown.
That's what life feels like when you don't know if there is going to be a next job so you don't end up out on the streets.

So it's back to the drawing board, so to speak. And wandering around the molten bush of life, and all my quirks and weirdness, and off skew views and observations that make me who I am.
I know I hate corporations for how they exploit humans. I love small businesses that are struggling to survive.
And for all that it does and what it really is, money is something that has to enter into the mix, because for some odd reason living by bartering doesn't apeal to landlords and grocery stores and other places of business.

What I really would like is to find some crazy eccentric millionair who loves art and has money to burn and sell them all my art and then do, I don't know what, maybe make more art.
I love art. It's a passion in my blood that makes me go zing alot.
It flows out my eyes and hands, and makes me think about lots and lots of things that could be done with everything from brand new things to garbage.
It makes me want to give everyone cans of paint and let them loose on the whitehouse and tell them paint away and change it from the whitehouse to the house of many colors.
It makes me want to change the colors the millitary wears to kaki shorts and loud hawaiian touristy shirts.
It makes me want to take all the people who are in teaching jobs and give them a new view of life by giving them all the millions of pounds of things that are thrown away in this country and tell them make something new.

But, I don't know where that crazy eccentric millionaire lives, so I guess I'll have to figure out something else.
I just don't know what it is yet. And I wish I did.

Sometimes I wish there was someone I could go to and lay all this stuff out in front of and they would take me by the hand and pat it gently and tell me it's ok, and help me sort through it all, and not try and tell me well if you just do this or just do that and do it my way you'll suceed.
I met someone like that once upon a time. He was dying from cancer. I got to spend a month with this man, and it was one of the best months of my life.

I miss his wisdom. And his fire and his passion about life.
It sucks that I can't go see him now, and even if I could and he would yell at me for what ever because I'd missed some of what he was trying to tell me, that would be ok too.
Because alot of time I feel really alone in life. Even though I live with the coolest people in the world, and I can come here and write about all kinds of things. I still feel very alone.
Even when I pray, I still feel alone.
I used to have this wish. That I would be walking on a beach somewhere and this person would show up out of no where and walk along side me and we would talk, and it would all make sense.
All the reasons that I was created like I was, and all the reasons for the gifts that I've been given. Most all of them can never be translated into something that I could ever find a job with.
And why oh why it seems that the walk of my life means that no one in my life can stay for very long.
I used to pray for such an encounter. I think I got that prayer answered when I got to spend time with that man.

I would like that again now. I'm really in need of that again.
I know alot of people out there in this big wide world feel the exact same way. About different things sometimes, and they never talk about that. Just like they don't talk about death or sex or anything else that makes them seem out there and vunrable.
I think that's not so right. To keep all thoes things tied up inside. Thoes things are what opens the doors to dispair, and depression and sucide.

So I'm willing to talk about them. I'm willing to ask for what I need. I know I'm very strong inside. Most of the time. I have to be. There is no one waiting in the wings to catch me if I fall, and I don't expect there to be anyone there.
I know the people around me care for me, but none of them are able to help me in the way I need help now.

Yep, I miss that man, and wish with all my heart that God would send another person like him into my life and let them stay longer this time. I'm exausted so deep down inside where the well is, and I don't have the strength to go to the river and fill buckets.
Who knows maybe tomorrow I will. Anything is possible. But for today, I don't got it. And I haven't had it for a long time now. All my resources have been used up.

That's about it for today.

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.