(no subject)

[kingtycoon]

There's so much - you know, I don't keep books the way I aught, tally events, calculate my positions.  Tell the story.  Old Livejournal's the one thing I do that never does feel like a duty, a responsibility.

On Sunday I cleaned the floors.  It'd been way too long & they were wrecked.  I cleaned them.  My roommate (not one for chores) had gone off to meet his girlfriend in Florida.  Agatha rotted her brains with cartoons and I mopped the floors.  It was very hot all day, it didn't seem like there was anything to do but that.

Saturday we walked all around, Agatha and me.  TO the bank & to buy the July bus pass & the library.  Went to the used book store to cash in some of our credit, my brother on the phone - both of us scared off of our mean sister but wondering if today or this weekend would be when she'd have her baby, we arrange to have her husband's number- he's less angry.  I buy the first two Hyperion books, read the first one.  Agatha, dreaming of sweets wakes me at 6 to try and get me to make blueberry muffins, I teach her how to make the batter, all of that baking paying off, she does fine.  A pile of bacon and coffee thick as cobwebs to make the day happen.  I'm tired, all day tired, just want to lay still & read - neighbors have a party, not stupid but loud, hot.  We go to the library like I said, both gravely disappointed by the noisy children's magic show.  I think I might have been snarling.

Late into the night she doesn't want to sleep, I want her to but it's so hot.  I can't either, I'm mean, to her a little, but in the fatherly way of too much teasing.  I mention about secrets I've gleaned from the index card she'd written on and hidden in a crack under the table.  She tells about how she loves James B.  And wants to kiss him and have a single baby.  She says she wants to grow as tall as her father and learn the 118 elements of the periodic table.  I tease her instead of helping her learn her elements.  Then I say I can try to find out where James B lives so we can walk past his house and maybe run into him.  She thinks that's terrible and great.  I probably won't help her to have the wrong behavior about people though.

Earlier in the week I have a new job it is pretty great, it is like a home so far.  It is right.  I go to the bookclub I go places-  there are ladies and I talk to them, it's nice, it's better than that even, it's good, they drive me home and I don't think about kissing them or try to, and I don't think about going to their houses for sex.  I don't.  Not caring that much about it.  Not wanting to mix things up or have a feeling when I needn't.  I'm too distracted and I haven't Made anything lately.  I'm uninspired - too many people from Porlock is what I say.  I go to my social function and talk about old ideas and never about what I'm doing or making, joke and laugh and have a fine time and it's not anything.  I'm not within myself just now, not quite who I am, I need something that's gone for the moment to make a thing.  I wonder what it might be and then don't feel much like writing anything. 

Comments

[fordmadoxfraud.livejournal.com]

I mean, regarding what you're doing or making, it just sounds like you're making, you know, your life, Agatha's life? There's only so much energy in a week, and with other people, if you're a halfway decent person, you commit a lot of that into being a person for them. Making, if I'm understanding the way you mean it, as in producing artifacts, I've always found to require great space and solitude.