He’s A Good Cop. On A Big Bike. On A Bad Road

I’m in that wonderful place that is neither here or there, neither sad or happy. I’m trying to feel something and I’m devoid of real emotion. I hate it here, when I can’t feel myself feel. Fuck it. I’ll just ride this out, let it take me where it will. It’s times like this that I feel just a little bit older, a little bit more cynical maybe, a little bit less fulfilled than I should be. I’m always on a kind of enviable high that drives me to write, to create to will and steer in different directions–to push myself. Times like this I feel like I’m floating in a dark pond, levitating, arms outstretched.

I drove to work this morning on autopilot as I call it as my mind wandered to all kinds of places, least of all the road. I thought about our mortality; my mortality…my fleeting beauty, the small wrinkles under my eyes; the way the creases on my forehead are slightly deeper then they were. I thought about the fucked up state of our economy, about all those people out there that still think Obama is a Muslim. Thought about how they’re changing the signs along Route 666 to 601 so people won’t take them anymore. I thought about Sookie and Bill and how I think Charleine Harris has an obvious predilection towards viking men. My mind was all over the place. In front of me there was a construction vehicle going 40 and I didn’t even notice until the whole row of cars passed me, as angry drivers stepped on the gas to get away from us. I switched lanes too.

We’re only gonna live once. Everyone keeps saying it as if they’re trying to convince themselves. Does any of this matter? What we do and don’t do will it matter? I feel small and insignificant. We’re fucking nothing, we mean nothing. I want to mean something. We all do.

Romeo this morning was unbearable. Rob and I yelled at each other, we’re at our wits end with him. The cat fights are getting really old. Both our cats are all scratched up. He may have to go soon. I can’t deal with him.

I feel so far away from me. I want to drive really far and get lost. I want to destroy things that are dear to me like the novel I’ve been writing since 1998. The urge to hit delete is really strong. I feel like everything I’ve ever written just plain sucks. Fuck, I want to disappear. I want to be a dark stranger sitting quietly somewhere watching the world go by. I brought breakfast but I’m not hungry.

I want to lose weight. I refuse to buy new clothes. The size 8’s are tight. I am not buying 10’s. I guess I’m a deppressed. I don’t know. I am trying to explore it, trying to snap out of it.

Jonathan Cainer – ARIES
What if you are at a crossroads? What if there’s no signpost telling you which way to go? What if most of the traffic is heading straight over? What if turning left, or right would clearly involve a lot of courage and entail a lonely journey? Nobody would blame you for doing the easiest, most obvious thing. That, though, would not make it the right choice. You’ve got a map in your pocket. With effort you can work out which move is going to lead you in the best direction. The Moon is full in your sign. Reflect before you commit. You haven’t got a ‘problem’. You have an incredible opportunity.

A crossroads. Great. Why do I find myself there all the time? I guess it’s better than moving in a perpetual straight line, granted, but damn the crossroads! I saw this movie on Sunday called Electra Glide in Blue that was so existential! “He’s A Good Cop. On A Big Bike. On A Bad Road.” I know it’s hailed as great film making but perhaps it was a bit too European for my mood. I think very few have actually seen this movie and I can see why American audiences might have really hated it at the time (1973).  I went for a walk in the swamp after watching this and I just kept on thinking about the main character. What was the point? He meant nothing, to no one in the end. He just died, alone, in a lone stretch of highway after making all the right choices in life. Good people get hurt and die all the time.