Sad Solange Scotch Bonnet Sphere

Yesterday I came home from work and went to the grocery store and came home and felt weird. I felt like I was sad, or something, but I don't know why. Like there was something I forgot to be sad about. Or the forgetting was making me sad. It was a weird feeling.

I think maybe it was the stuff about Solange. Not the actual story or whatever. That's none of our business. I think jokes are fun and funny, but I do feel sort of creepy that the surveillance footage got out. The thing of there being rage or violence or whatever in a showbiz family. Is that news? Everyone has fucked up families. It just seems so mysterious and so plain, too. Like, of course they fight. Everyone fights. To my mind, inside an elevator seems like a pretty perfect place to fight, actually. That's where those fights should happen. No, what's making me sad about it is, I think, that it inspired me to listen to that Solange EP again. And that song, "Losing You" which always causes me to have such a powerful reaction:

I don't know why. I feel like I first heard this song, really, for the first time, in Berlin when I was there last summer. I was hanging out with La JohnJoseph and Stevie at a bar called the Sharon Stonewall. I think we went there because of the name, and because it was sort of near the apartment in Mitte where we were staying. The bar was mostly empty and just OK. They were playing Dolly Parton concert videos with the sound off, and there were huge wall-sized murals of Whitney Houston and Sharon Stone. The Whitney one, we assumed, must be new. The Sharon Stone one, I don't know. That could easily have been there before the Wall came down, right? But I was buying expensive drinks and lusciously smoking indoors (the best!) and that song came on. "Losing You". Of course La JJ knew it, she knows all about all the hit records all the time, from both sides now. But that song totally ripped me up. I remember being really sad about it for a few days afterward. Why? I think it's that thing of, the song is about that feeling where you kind of know it's over, but you and the other person haven't totally admitted it yet, for whatever reason. That thing of, like, wanting to believe that your hunch is wrong, that it's not necessarily over, but knowing on a gut level that it is indeed over, and  you have to face that truth. It's an awful feeling. It took me back to a time in my life that I have thought about many times but not in a while, when I was going out with someone but we were kind of just fighting a lot, and not admitting that the fighting meant we probably shouldn't be a couple, or something. I hated that feeling, it was the worst. That song makes me so sad, and I've been listening to it nonstop for the last two days.

On my way home from work yesterday I bought bell peppers and broccoli and scotch bonnets from the produce stand with the weird slogans about Jesus. I thought, okay, I feel sort of sad, I'll make really spicy food. Sadness, Solange, and Scotch bonnets. I chopped them up really small to put into a stir-fry, and I thought I had been pretty meticulous about washing my hands, but my fingertips still kind of burn a little bit. I suppose there are, in fact, microscopic cuts on my fingers which the peppers irritated. The food was good though.

Feeling sort of weird. A lot of changes right now, a lot of deep feelings about the past and the future. I can't tell if I'm upset about some circumstances or if I'm just using the circumstances to project my feelings onto, if that's just how I'm able to understand things. The past two nights there's been a group of younger kids who hang out on a rooftop around the corner from my apartment, but through the interior courtyard I can see and hear them. They've been getting drunk and kicking bottles off of the roof. I'd call the cops but I don't like the idea of calling 911 and I also don't know the address of where they are, so even if the cops did want to come, I don't know how I'd direct them to the noisy people. Anyway yesterday they were back on their rooftop, playing a boombox and kicking bottles, and so I decided to go up to my rooftop to watch the sunset.

I never go up on my roof anymore. It's not really safe. It's kind of gorgeous though. At least right now, with all the trees in the projects blooming. That made me feel nice. I came back inside and ate dinner and watched a movie with the windows open. I've been working my way, slowly, through the Sharon Stone filmography. My friend Max has been telling me for months how great she is in Casino and I finally saw it last week, and she was, duh, totally great. Last night I watched this sort of shitty, sort of funky sci-fi thriller called Sphere which stars Sharon Stone. She's one of three women in the film, the other two are played by Queen Latifah and Marga Gomez.  How, I thought, had I not seen this movie starring three women I think are rad?

Oh, right, it's actually not such a fantastic film. It's kind of like a deep ocean version of Event Horizon, but not quite as terrifying. I don't want to spoil it but it is a lot about projecting your subconscious thoughts, about manifesting your fears. So it was kind of appropriate and kind of awful to see. I feel weird. Uncertain.

I forgot to mention that last weekend at Spank we met these guys, one of whom I had met before, they were these nice, sort of fancy-seeming young gay dudes. They had distinctive names Oxnard and Chervil but I've forgotten what they actually were named. They were part of this group of people all hanging out and then going to the Spank party together, and when we got to Spank, PLD ordered a beer because it was cheap, ui guess, and he gave me a sip and they looked at us like we were crazy. I don't normally like beer. But sometimes I like the convenience of beer, the normalcy-- that there is even a normal thing to be drinking. I like that. The dumb comfort of beer, right?

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