July, 2012

July 22
We run together through life trying to recover our missing identities.
"You're spitting again, just like old times"
Re-experiencing the past and confronting who we once were.
We're meaningless consumers, this is what we've become.
I'm leaving everyone's petty bullshit behind.
Catwoman and I will return to our former selves and live in peace with the world.
We're talking about our first apartment and beach mice, and we're remembering what it's like to be kids.

July 24
We're figuring it out...
I guess Catwoman misses what it used to be like at my house, before my parents' divorce.
I got robbed at work today, it's my first day on the job.
I guess this is what it's like growing up.

July 26
Hippies is all Ocean Beach raises, I understand this now...I'm just not sure how I feel about it.
This is what I once wanted to be, but who am I now?

July 27
It's so difficult to believe that in a year I've lost everything that was ever good about who I am.
I'm a lot dumber now, living in a place void of culture will do that to you.
In the words of a boy from the past, "you're old and boring now."
Am I?
I feel like my words are empty now, as if my ability to weave something spectacular has completely diminished.
Can I find some semblance of who I once was?

July 30
This doesn't feel like home anymore, it feels like a cheap imitation of something tangible....it lacks substance, yet I feel there's some illusive lesson still to be learned from this place.
People from the past keep re-appearing, as if to remind me of things long forgotten.

July 31
Retro sleepover of epic proportions.
This where I talk and no one listens, or I listen and no one talks.
Sit down so I can explain to you my vision.
Hearts were broken, blunts were smoked, burritos were eaten, cigarettes were traded, kisses were stolen, cat fights happened, people were arrested, skateboards were rode through the parking lot....
I was high on my birthday here once, I made-out on that bench, I was drunk on that grass.
It was the setting for so much of our adolescent lives.
It was where everyone went on the days that they had nothing to do...
And on the afternoons that we loitered after school.
The Library
Somehow it doesn't conjure visions of books anymore.

Aug 1
Who can say how long it takes to get somewhere on the road of life?
That's why I always arrive on my own time.
And....
"Oh, the memories!"
This is why we all sound like a cliché, because we're all figments of the same person's imagination.
It's funny how my house always used to smell like weed, like you walk in and instantly notice it.
Anyone can be a philosopher if they're high enough.
Places emit an energy and aura, akin to people.
I recited Keats and prayed upon the full moon that something might turn out okay.
Lately I've been feeling like a character in a children's fairytale.
I feel like Coraline...
It's okay, I felt like Alice while on shrooms.
I felt larger than life, here I feel so small in a Burton-esque world.
Someday there'll be a rose garden...
And I just named her car, Tux.

Aug 2
I don't think I can fix this...
Because I don't think I can fix myself.
Secretly I'm just as fucked up as I was when I left.
I thought with enough weed and time that maybe I could fix whatever it is that's broken.
Satan told me that I'm weird about sex..."Always have been."
He's the second guy to tell me that.
I think my newfound, short-lived friendship with Satan is just about finished.
To think we were flirting, talking, hanging out....I knew it wouldn't last though
I'm not sure I can salvage anything from this.

Aug 4
Someday I'll look back on this and smile.
Life is fluid and everything happens in an order.
I believe I mentioned before that people from the past keep showing up?
My Former Prince (do you remember him?)
Well his personality has an uncanny likeness to Satan's personality when he was that age.
It scares me...
Another boy from the past also showed up recently...he payed for everything and opened doors for me.
He was kinda perfect, but now he won't text me.
Also the King of Burnt Toast and Newb have been around lately.
Newb has stitches in his hand from an accident while trying to clean a bubbler.
He thinks he's a legitimate stoner, he still acts like a newb though.
Speaking of newbs, I kept fucking up last night...dropping weed, spilling bong water...it was pretty bad.
And I've been hanging out with Snuff lately, it turns out he's one of the only people that I still enjoy hanging out with.
I saw my mom today, it was interesting...
All my friends still think she's psycho, and for a reason.
She gave Newb a nug though.
And it was nice to see her, and smoke a joint with her.
It's nice to finally be able to say whatever I need to without the fear of repercussions.
Kids these days are idiots...sorry, random thought.
Okay, Bunny out.

Aug 5
I've been here before...
I can see My Former Prince turning into Satan.
And I come here to this abode merely to revisit the past.
We're trying to find the answers here.
We were so good at being burnt back then, and we sound like such girls.
If I can decipher the past then maybe I can save the future.
I'm beginning to feel like myself again, life is beginning to make sense.

Aug 6
Trophies of my Travels
There's a grammatical term for that, I swear.
I'm really high these days, you know.
Sometimes I sound stupid, but it's because if I'm not stoned then my brain won't slow down long enough to use logical thinking.
And reality is based on perception, so maybe we can alter our own reality.
Maybe weed makes this easier...
Sometimes I sound like a fucking hippie, but it works for me most of the time.
You just have to find the flow of life, because life is fluid like the ocean.
And it all makes sense sometimes....

Aug 8
And I somehow suddenly start to feel sixteen again.
I'm rediscovering the world around me.
We're so ignorantly proud of this place, stuck in the past and decaying with time.
I wonder how many minutes I've spent on the beach in the last 4 years.
I don't understand, sometimes the past makes the present unravel.
Is it possible that fate should present the past to me?
Could I be merely a victim of time?
Secretly I talk to myself, so I'm crazy...okay?
And I'd always get high with people who understood it and accepted it.
"And that's how the west was won," okay?
So really everyone is fucked up somehow...
But I'm not that destructive (as everyone else), right?
Satan is an ass, self-righteous, pompous, entitled....finished with a glossy new coat of self-pity.
Everything makes sense now, right?
It's just another one of my fucking rants...so deal with it, okay?
Kiss my ass...yeah, really...

He's messing with my head on purpose
I know his type, I suppose I could be his type if I really tried.
Maybe I should take that as a challenge
Why do I even care?
I couldn't rationalize this if I tried...
I'm entirely sure that the behavior that I'm exhibiting is completely self-destructive.

Aug 11
We live in the same vicinity, but our paths never cross...
On this metaphorical road of life.
Every place in this world has a story and a soul.
You can almost sense it when you go there.
This is why hippies like to talk about emotionally intuitive people.

I examine the world through a combination of dreams and thoughts.
I meditate on various perspectives to better understand my own fragile existence.
Is this what they call "existential philosophy"?
I can't even remember...
Nietsche used to be an old friend, now merely a ghost of a thought.

Aug 12
The Great Bunny of The Beach has spoken.
Okay, this is like a bad cheesy movie
I like pretty things, with lots of emotional symbolism.
This is where my love of art comes from...
Anyway, the other night Catwoman reminded me of an afternoon so secretly symbolic that it got its own chapter in my novella.
It's funny isn't it, the way time passes.
The way vague images of a red plastic bong and guilty giggles in a cute boy's kitchen could bring tears to a person's eyes.