Clingy?

What can I say?

I'm clingy. I hang on for dear life - I grasp the edges of the world around me and hope to God I won't fail... I won't falter... I won't slip and find myself clutching at my own veins round about the age of 75.

I have lived desperately. I have wanted to live with the end in mind. Is it a crime?

Today I sailed up an elevator into the equivalent of an old folks home in Philadelphia and found myself musing over my mother with a client. I can't help it. She's in my blood, hemo-talking to me all the time.

We wait between bouts of energy and my client asks, "Were you pressured into music as a child?"

Was I? Did I want to do anything that my mother gave me - when she had nothing? When she was raised by no one, accountable to no one, and loved lately? Did I want to do everything she wanted for me?

I did.

But some things are just easier to love than others... especially when you're living for what you can get - and not what you want.

I was given every opportunity to fall in love with music, to become good, to become beautiful, to marry well and live with joy - in the only way my mother knew how.

And there - sitting in the plastic air at 19th and Chestnut I found myself still musing over her. Still knowing that she is incredibly giving...because she has been desperate most of her life.

In the last few years I have gradually come to the realization that peace is not something I can expect to create so much as simply accept. I can radically change my outlook on a day, on a season, on a moment if I simply accept it as it is, as it comes, as it will be anyway.

But I am desperate and I live life a scrambler.

I suppose that's sort of the point of this little project - to regain my sense of myself, to be sure to record my words, my sounds, my perspective. I'm merely a thoughtful observer here. That is all I know how to do right now.

A previous beginning can be found here.

I'm not planning on making sense. But I'll do my best where I can.

So - some things about me today:

4 shots of vodka, sweet potato, 1 stuffed cabbage, a whole bag of blueberries and a cup of cream, and 1 salad with PB in the late afternoon (first meal of the day) - stuffed and going to regret it tomorrow. weighing 155 is sad-ish but generally to be expected.

I like airports. A lot. I miss them when I'm not there.

I like Zoe Keating (below). She reminds me a lot of Washington State because I listened to her non-stop in the family van. I also ate wild blackberries there and that is ALWAYS good.

I like Muse. They remind me of Jake Woodruff conversations post college and even during Oxford... and of barefoot sprinting in a thunderstorm or on a track so hot my feet were scalded by myself at the Moorestown Track.

I called Meghan Waldeck tonight and told her I didn't want to live alone really. I'm grateful for her and Heather in a bad way.

Alyson bought me iced coffee today. I hope she becomes a CrossFit trainer and leaves her current job so I can have coffee and train with someone that amazing all the time.

My legs are so. very. sore. I rested today.

I need a haircut, a gyno, some new clothes for summer, and a chill pill.

Zoe Keating - "Time Is Running Out" - SFO from Seany on Vimeo.