I have that feeling again. I'm waiting for something. I don't mean, waiting in line, waiting on a table, waiting for the mail. It's an abstract and wretched feeling.
Sometimes it hits while I'm in the shower, in bed battling insomnia, buying some cigarettes. Usually it passes quickly. Usually I try to ignore it.
I realize that I've spent years avoiding this feeling. I realize that every word I've written, every photo I've snapped and every line I've drawn have shared a purpose. Killing time. I have no idea what for. I just know that I'm waiting.
Maybe I've been waiting for Tyler to call and demand we do this workshop. Maybe I've been waiting for a puff of smoke to rise out of bonnet, leaving me on the side of I-17 puzzling over melting hot wires. Maybe I've been waiting for my life to feel like a good book.
Last night was a good night by all indications. Jason and Kristi came up to visit from Phoenix, Peggy came over and we all sang songs and sipped perfect manhattans. But the feeling kept me absent. Whatever it was that I was waiting for never revealed itself.
We wrapped some stones and talked about reincarnation. Life was a clich for a few moments. I'm still waiting.
I know it's kind of lame to drop a quote, but here I am quoting Conor Oberst, "There's this switch that gets flipped and it all stops making sense, in the middle of drinks maybe the fifth or the sixth. I'm completely alone at a table of friends. I feel nothing for them, I feel nothing."
I don't fully agree here, but can relate. There is no switch for me, or maybe it's just stuck. I feel love for the beautiful people all around me, but feel alone. I'm waiting.
I'm waiting for something to snap me out of this state of isolation. I'm waiting for something to convince me to smile and mean it. I'm still waiting to find a niche somewhere, but everywhere I look seems empty and pointless.
I'm waiting for the summer, so I can sweat and paint in my hot little apartment, and hose myself off in the garden. I'm waiting for the being(s) in my laundry room to stop being coy, and start explaining. I'm waiting for the life I was planning on to stop popping into my head. I'm waiting for the new plan to unveil itself.
I'm waiting for a publishing deal to present itself, I'm waiting for a record label to hear my bullshit lyrics and think it's worth an investment (saddle creek, please). I'm waiting for my hair to grow long, because I cut the bangs short and uneven last week.
I'm waiting for a gift to arrive, via UPS, but there is no gift on the way. I'm waiting for the patience needed to finish any of these odd little projects.
I'm waiting for the day that I'll never have to bartend. I'm waiting for Jessica to get on with it and open her own coffeehouse. I'm even waiting for Jessica to get on with it, and brag about being the best barista in the state.
Yes, I'm waiting. I'm waiting for my discontent to subside. I'm waiting for joy, waiting for love, waiting for life to just happen. I know I should be making it all happen, but no matter what I do, I feel the wait.
I'm waiting for all of this, but still can't put my finger on what, exactly, I'm waiting for.
Sometimes it hits while I'm in the shower, in bed battling insomnia, buying some cigarettes. Usually it passes quickly. Usually I try to ignore it.
I realize that I've spent years avoiding this feeling. I realize that every word I've written, every photo I've snapped and every line I've drawn have shared a purpose. Killing time. I have no idea what for. I just know that I'm waiting.
Maybe I've been waiting for Tyler to call and demand we do this workshop. Maybe I've been waiting for a puff of smoke to rise out of bonnet, leaving me on the side of I-17 puzzling over melting hot wires. Maybe I've been waiting for my life to feel like a good book.
Last night was a good night by all indications. Jason and Kristi came up to visit from Phoenix, Peggy came over and we all sang songs and sipped perfect manhattans. But the feeling kept me absent. Whatever it was that I was waiting for never revealed itself.
We wrapped some stones and talked about reincarnation. Life was a clich for a few moments. I'm still waiting.
I know it's kind of lame to drop a quote, but here I am quoting Conor Oberst, "There's this switch that gets flipped and it all stops making sense, in the middle of drinks maybe the fifth or the sixth. I'm completely alone at a table of friends. I feel nothing for them, I feel nothing."
I don't fully agree here, but can relate. There is no switch for me, or maybe it's just stuck. I feel love for the beautiful people all around me, but feel alone. I'm waiting.
I'm waiting for something to snap me out of this state of isolation. I'm waiting for something to convince me to smile and mean it. I'm still waiting to find a niche somewhere, but everywhere I look seems empty and pointless.
I'm waiting for the summer, so I can sweat and paint in my hot little apartment, and hose myself off in the garden. I'm waiting for the being(s) in my laundry room to stop being coy, and start explaining. I'm waiting for the life I was planning on to stop popping into my head. I'm waiting for the new plan to unveil itself.
I'm waiting for a publishing deal to present itself, I'm waiting for a record label to hear my bullshit lyrics and think it's worth an investment (saddle creek, please). I'm waiting for my hair to grow long, because I cut the bangs short and uneven last week.
I'm waiting for a gift to arrive, via UPS, but there is no gift on the way. I'm waiting for the patience needed to finish any of these odd little projects.
I'm waiting for the day that I'll never have to bartend. I'm waiting for Jessica to get on with it and open her own coffeehouse. I'm even waiting for Jessica to get on with it, and brag about being the best barista in the state.
Yes, I'm waiting. I'm waiting for my discontent to subside. I'm waiting for joy, waiting for love, waiting for life to just happen. I know I should be making it all happen, but no matter what I do, I feel the wait.
I'm waiting for all of this, but still can't put my finger on what, exactly, I'm waiting for.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
freakofcali:
hey i know exactly how you feel i get the same feeling at leaste a couple times a week or more and i can understand what you are going threw well i would just liketo say welcome and drop me a line sometime.
halfjack:
i can relate to the feeling. i found pciking up and moving to a totally new place for a totallty different job can put the feeling at bay for at least half a year. i don't think it ever goes away until you get what you want. course you gotta figure out what you want, and make it happen. easier said than done