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kill holiday - you're taking it well. |
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Currently, I am driving from ferndale, michigan to the most wonderful city in the world, Chicago. Home.
I won't lie, I could keep this up for another few weeks. I wish I could just tour for months on end. Coming home is a double-edged sword. I miss sushi from fresh, downtown lunches, call of duty 4, running along the lake and the wonderful miss gianna, who will be the big 4 next month (full bday party coverage will be posted). But its those familiar comforts that I feel might pull me back into a lazy slump. Eh, we'll see how it goes. Maybe ill just up and move to europe and become a gypsy or to portland and be a street punk... but then I'd have to wear crass shirts and I've always thought that band sucked and get sick face tats and I'm sure that shit hurts like fuck and I've turned into a pussy with pain in my old age. Plus, the homeless street kid punX are nothing more than nu-hippies anyway and fuck if I'm not showering for days.
Years ago, I went to mexico with my exgf and we met some white dude who was renting out the sailboats. As he was instructing us, I interrupted him and asked how he got there. He said he was from arizona and that he came down and vacation and just stayed. Just like that. Stayed for years. Intrigued, I asked why. He said because while he wasn't making much money, he got to live in paradise every day. God, I wish I could do that shit. Its like I fear attachments, not because I'm commitment-phobic but because, like in the movie heat, I want to just drop everything and peace-out in 10 minutes.
When we were alone, an old friend always talked about pulling a 'good will hunting', and just disappearing one day. In a way, he did and I have to respect that. But in order to do that, I'd have to leave so much behind that I love, so ill stay. Like I always do. For the past 3 years, the background of my phone has read, "courage is the ability to let go of the familiar."
There's something almost indescribable about a strangers hug. Someone you've never seen, never met or spoken to that walks up and hugs you with everything they have. I know that most people won't ever know what that feels like, but on long saturday night drives home, its something that I get to exhale and smile about. I love seeing it. Feeling it. I don't like letting go. Call me a creep but sometimes I find a little something in those moments. Like, sometimes I want to grab you and sit down and say, "tell me everything. Why you're here. What makes you tick. What you hope and pray for at the end of the night."
But I never do. I just hug you back with everything I've got and hope you feel it as well.
I say it often because I mean it often, thank you. Thank you for the smiles you think I don't see, the tears in your eyes when you walk away, the way your hand shakes when you're holding the camera, the words and secrets you trust me with, how you scramble for something for me to sign as if I'm going to walk away, for the little notes on dollars in my tip box, for the couches and floors, for the notes, letters, gifts, food, love, support and belief. Thank you.
You guys made the past 6 weeks fly by and gave me one of the best times of my life.
Thank you.
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