Wednesday August 24 2011

DREAM: In a warehouse. I’ve obtained “the spirit of ice” in my hands—an invisible human-like figure—a midget. I’m approached by another being called The Ice Man—he’s more reminiscent of the character Sub-Zero from Mortal Kombat. He’s impressed with my possession. All of a sudden we hear an obnoxious pig noise on the other side of the room.

Me: “Oh, that’s probably just a manifestation from him. Or maybe I did that…”

I look over and it’s understood that a monster (the one creating that pig noise) found our enemies. Robert DeNiro comes running out. He’s supposed to be playing the role of Hitler. Rachel is supposed to be his wingman or sidekick or maybe a secretary or just a pretty lady or girlfriend. The goal here is to find a common ground not through violence. The people on my side have managed to corral everyone in a circle in order to have some kind of peace talks. I’m the last one to sit down. There’s a spot next to Hitler (DeNiro). Just as I’m about to place myself down, Rachel dives into the spot causing me to relocate on the other side of the circle. Peace talks commence.

Waking up…getting out of bed around 12:30 p.m.

Breakfast: Rotten White Peaches. Orange Juice.

Trader Joe’s trip. I get back home to find Anthony sprawled out on a blanket in the backyard. I toss him a banana to which he catches as if already expecting it.

Later…Anthony: “Thanks for that banana. It was providence.”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade. Green Figs.

Playing around with a few melodies on my Yamaha synthesizer.

Cleaning out my computer—rearranging files—organizing—making more space.

Working on Ableton.

Bike riding to the storage unit—entranced by the piano—working on a drony new song. Every time I sit down to play piano something just takes me captive. I’m put in such a soothing state of mind. Re-learning a Beethoven song I used to know. After a while I hit a certain point…I can’t go on…leaving…

On the ride back home something boils up inside me—a pain—a longing—but not an affection for any person……feeling weighed down with obligations and responsibilities and manhood and adulthood and…well, I have to scream, out loud…because all I want to do is play music and make music and live in music. I’m entrapped in this desire to make melodies…and there are too many obstacles. I don’t want to stagnate. I want to develop!

Dinner: Beer Battered Cod Filets with Rice and Broccoli. Kirin Ichiban.

I’m restraining myself in many ways…out of respect…I want to respect you. I want to do what’s right. I don’t know what you expect to happen. But I expect a change. I expect a new path. I expect a new season. I’m fending for control. I’m also wallowing in what once was, well, not really wallowing—but it’s on the tip of my mind perpetually: everything I will lose. You, I will lose. I’m prepared. I wasn’t before. Distractions. Healthy new distractions. Long lasting and edifying distractions help. I’m dabbling in something new. Something I’m not used to. Something fresh. I find it appropriate for me. Paving the way………Sexuality is an animal. We Are Animal. Or Are We Human? More Than Human. I Am Man. I Am.

Earlier I sent Anthony an email of a Craigslist ad for an awesome house on 26th street. I saw the ad and just had a wishful thinking moment like, If only we rented this place instead.

He replies with, “We'll always be looking for places to start our Spartacus projects...someday buddy, someday.”

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Watching Wild Target [2010]. Emily Blunt—exquisite beauty.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

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