Fourth of July....


Here I am again.

I knew this was going to be hard... this month. Cuz I'm sort of OCD on top of being strange. I'm conflicted.

I write to clear my head. I write to bare my soul. I write because I'm a little crazy and I need to keep track of things. I write because I'm alone. I could write secretly but I think there's something about writing publicly that helps me. Those narcissistic tendencies, maybe? Slightly voyeuristic tendencies.

The problem is feedback. Sometimes I need it, sometimes I don't. I don't know that I need feedback right now as I work through this. I could hide it, I suppose. But again... there's something about making it all public that helps.

Today wasn't a really good day. The kid had a good day... but he knows I'm not happy. Shoefly got me out of the house today... we took the boys down to lower Manhattan to the big store down there where WhiteClogs works. It was fun... I see music store as a future college- job for my kid...

He sat down at a drumkit, the Sun, and got this big cheesy grin. And then he tapped out a few beats. He likes it. He won't do violin for ever, I know. He's going to find his instrument and off he'll go. I'd be very surprised if wasn't a musician...

After that, we walked over the Brooklyn Bridge. Everyone had decided the same thing, apparently, but it was fun. There were all kinds of people walking the bridge. It seemed an appropriate thing to do on the Fourth of July.

We walked to Dumbo. The boys had a great time but Dumbo wasn't so fun for me. The last time I was there, I'd done a printmaking workshop with Fluffernutter (cuz he was still that to me then) and some of his friends. I'd noticed some stuff back then. Should have paid more attention to it. But then afterwards... well, whatever. Dumbo wasn't fun for me today.

After the park under the two bridges (which was nice) and taking pictures of some weddings and a QuinceaƱera, we got some pizza, and then walked over to the IRT#4. The Sun asked me if Cricket lived near there, and I said no, he lived further away. He said he wanted to go see him... and I said well, no we couldn't do that. The Sun said he liked him, he wanted to see him. I said I didn't think that was going to happen for a while. He asked why not... I reminded him of a conversation we'd had the other day, in which I told him he probably shouldn't get attached. That neither of us should.

I couldn't wait to get the fuck out of Brooklyn.

I wanted to see the fireworks... but I knew if we went the Sun and I would have to trek home on our own. We probably should have... it probably wouldn't have been so bad getting home. Except they were on the Hudson this year... and it takes forever to get home from the West Side. The Professor and the Fam were with Poppy in Central Park; Professor wasn't driving, and she shouldn't have been... so the kid and I came on home.

I guess it was a better fourth of July than last year. Last year sucked ass. Like worse than today, because at least this year it didn't rain and I got out of the house.

But last year I got a foot rub and gentle words, even though I KNEW it would blow up in the end. Which it did.

But for about 25 days or so... really, an awfully short time considering how badly it sucked afterwards, for 25 days or so things were really nice. I almost believed...

I'm not sure I want to revisit it. Revisiting will distract me from the current disappointment. But it won't solve anything.

And it might take me back to August. I haven't looked at any pictures from last summer. None of them. I didn't delete them, because I never delete pictures or throw out pictures. But I won't look at them though sometimes I'm tempted.

CNC was concerned for me... so was the FatLady when I told them who had been sniffing around. The thing was, at the time it didn't bother me. And when he bailed yesterday, it didn't bother me as much as it could have. But today bothered me. Probably cuz I'm remembering a past that wasn't, and a present that isn't.

But there's a lot of other things I need to get control of, and then maybe none of this will matter...

...though sometimes I really think that if got control of this, the rest of it would be so much easier.


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