From Pathetic Life #13
Saturday, June 17, 1995
During most of this morning’s vendor lottery I leaned against an oak tree, which left my ass sticky with sap all day. Every time I tried to get out of the plastic chair to sell someone a fish, the chair came up with me. Can’t even wear the same pants tomorrow, like I’d usually do for a week at a time. Too sticky.
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Waiting at a crosswalk on the way home, I overheard an enthusiastic catchphrase conversation between two of the devoutly religious. Muslims, in this case, but with Baptists or Buddhists, only the name of the god has been changed. Maybe a few of the silly rules.
Two men went on and on, sincerely and seriously discussing their religion’s arcanities and idiocies, and then one of them said something so priceless I had to write it in my notebook: “When you’re young, it’s possible to over-worship.”
I politely kept my snickering to myself, but even the slightest worship is over-worship. Believe whatever idiocy you choose, but I’d sooner worship a bowl of Alpha-Bits than Allah, or any other imagined god. At least the Alpha-Bits are real, and provide nutrition, not merely hallucination.
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Nobody calls me back.
Called Maggie again, and left a message again. Silence echoes at me.
That political group, the people pissed off at the SFPD, is apparently so pissed there’s no time for returning calls.
And Ron, the guy who wanted to take me to dinner and see my resumé and maybe hire me as caretaker at his cabin? I’ve left two messages for him since we last spoke, and I’m not calling again unless he calls me back.
Of course, I’m usually quite crappy about returning calls myself. If you’ve called or written to me, you’ll spend the rest of your life waiting to hear back.
The only people who hear back from me are people calling from my “I’ll do anything” flyers, and the people I live with or am about to, and Sarah-Katherine until she dumps me. Other than that, I am a rock. I am an island, and if there’s a bridge, I’ve blown it up.
This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.
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