Let It Bleed

It's Monday morning and I am back at my Good Old Desk, contemplating the cosmos, muscle aches and lunch orders. I absolutely can't wait for the weekend, when I shall run away from Los Angeles and leave behind all my problems. At least that's the fantasy version of it. I'm feeling full lately, like an old sponge that needs to be rinsed, squeezed and hung out to dry.... Do you ever have the need for a good old-fashioned blood-letting? I have absorbed just about all I can take in.

My meditation practice has been spotty lately. Sometimes sleeping in seems more appealing than sitting up and chanting. I am trying to get back on course. It's been a rough month on the homefront. I might have mentioned that.... I'm fully settled into the idea of the HOLIDAYS being an unavoidable phenomenon, so I am embracing them in an attempt to maybe get a little release from the pressure of being alive. There is something so surreal about this time of year in Los Angeles. The faux fall decorations, all orange and brown, followed by the various forms of white meant to represent snow or cocaine, depending on what part of LA you are in.

Days like this make me want to listen to Hole. I just hate being in a situation where I'm kicking myself and saying: "I should have listened to Courtney Love!" She's like a V-8, that girl....

God's Greatest Hits

Super duper deep in a Nilsson moment right now. What an amazing genius talent that man was! Words cannot describe... If you only know "Without You" or "Everybody's Talkin'"- you simply have no idea. Go get some Nilsson music today!!! It will change your life.

I miss blogging like I used to do. No one burned down the temple but me. I hope to return. The tumblr is unfulfilling and twitter gives me ADD. My facebook is like a shitty magazine of People I happen to know. I'm bored by the internets and glistening for the next big thing... I'd rather be dead than wet my bed, too, Harry.

Commitment

Or Who Becomes An Asshole Most?

This is a transcript of a conversation I had with an Art World person at a recent social gathering:

SO: Short of suicide, which is forthcoming and inevitable, what could I do to further my career as an artist? Do you recommend cutting off an expendable body part or attempted murder? What would raise the value of my art more?

AW: Oh, you're serious about art now? I thought you were serious about your music?

SO: I'm not serious about anything!

AW: If you really want to make it, you have to be willing to commit.

SO: Like I said, murder, mutilation, whatever it takes...

AW: *fidgets uncomfortably*

SO: Seriously, though... If I am ever committed to anything, it will be the psychiatric ward.

Then he scampered away, as expected. Yeah, I was fucking with him but still telling a version of the truth. In actuality, I am terrified that I have designed a universe for myself that isn't altogether different in tone from the world of Frances Farmer. This is disturbing on many levels. Maybe if I hadn't listened to all those Smiths albums....

So, it's my birthday tomorrow. I'm not very excited about the prospect of getting older. I always seem to freak out around this time of year. I was reminded that a mere four years ago, I almost killed myself and three of the people I care most about in this world. We were leaving a karaoke party downtown, in my honor. Needless to say, I had far, far, far too much to drink that night. I punched CK in the face and was promptly loaded into the passenger seat of my car for the ride home. Holly drove.

About the time we hit top speed on the freeway, I decided to have a full on mental breakdown when Anthony suggested that "everything was going to be alright." That triggered a response from the darkest corner of my soul. I screamed: "No! It's NOT going to be ALRIGHT!!!" Among other things, I am sure... Then I punched the front window of my car, which shattered, to my surprise. I tried to undo my seatbelt and managed to fling open my car door, while we were still flying down the freeway. Anthony restrained my arms from where he sat in the back seat. Holly merged onto an offramp and as she did, I yanked up on the emergency brake and almost caused the car to veer out of control. Holly managed to drive us to safety and no one was seriously hurt. That was four years ago, but it seems like more.

I have made arrangements to meet with a mental health professional tomorrow morning, as a preemptive move on my part. Maybe I will manage to get through this weekend without becoming a famous artist after all.

I'm not serious about anything.
Laugh Out Loud!

Saviour Onassis