27.Sep.2003
still I can't escape the ghost of you
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I won't cry for yesterday
I met Mary, a fifty-seven-year-old computer programmer for Southwestern Bell; I made her take a look at my code and explain slowly why certain browsers were having such a problem with it. She said, "You should close your comments. Oh, and, where is this bracket leading? Also, think about DocTyping your HTML document."
I love Mary.
I played her Kawai, and she said, "I don't understand why you're not already published. What are you waiting for? Haul ass. Get published. Get released. There is no reason you keep this a secret."
Mary is the sort I can meet wearing pin-stripe, cat-haired trousers, and she won't hold it against me. I had dinner with her tonight, and we talked about broken relationships and the promise of youth. She also talked about openings at Southwestern Bell.
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I have actually been saving my money. I have $229 for the "Send Ravie to New York Fund". This appeases me greatly.
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I spent just an hour with my mother in the ICU today. She is progressing magnificently. She's stationed in room 25 of the CICU at Mercy Hospital here in Oklahoma City. She's connected to two pumps which drain her pancreas of bacteria as the hours progress. She's been off of the ventilator for a while. I asked her tonight, while running calloused fingers against her silken forehead, "What do you miss most?"
She said, "Walking across a floor without an aid. I really miss being human."
I said, "Mom, you are human."
She said, "Oh ... I know."
I said, "You'll be home soon."
She said, "I know; you keep saying that."
I felt nothing but guilty.
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Sublimation has been my deepest crony. I find pauses in the ordinary world every second. When I'm driving or Terri's driving, I see people through their windshields, and I want to know everything about them. I write stories in my head before work. I write riffs every moment.
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It's been so tempestuous; you have no idea. Perhaps you do, you with your insecurities and you with your curiosity, and you with your devotion. It has been rather difficult to surmount, all of this.
I am still as paranoid as the first day you met me. I am pushing through this with the same passion I use for all of my musical endeavors.
As far as "Ravebot Project 2003", rest assured I have converted to Veganism and do an upwards of 200 push-ups and sit-ups a day. I will not stop until it's feasible. Relinquishing all of my favorite foods to the Gods of Gluttony(tm) has been operose, at best. However, I am determined to give to the universe nothing but lethal shoulder-blades.
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Romantically, I have been free for over two months, I suppose. That is a story I am holding. I no longer indulge myself as belonging to another entity. Fuck them all. Fuck them all violently. Fuck them all with the same force I had for loving them.
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I draw my creative muse from Radiohead and all of those tight little places I have sworn to never show to humanity ... until today.
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There is a revolution inside of me, and one day, I will show all of you what this feels like. I only hope you will all understand it.
Goodnight, my dears. I will see you all on the other side.
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time & machine