Emotional Sobriety Day Four.

I was chasing the dragon there. The lady dragon.

-Her teeth are sharp but her tongue is sweet. She likes you when she likes herself. Her skin is soft and her eyes are sirens. Her heart is a guillotine door.-

God. Went to the pound on Monday. It was heartbreaking. There were so many dogs. Puzzle wasn't there. On the way out I lost it and started balling in front of everyone. Had to get back to the job (street casting with Jane Brody). Three hours later, Starbuck's Spinach and Feta Wrap is a must.

The barista.. is.. Cute.

Boy: "Hello" (You're cute).
Girl: "Hi there" (So are you). I'm in the market for a sandwich (Jesus, I like your eyes), Know any good ones (Do you have a boyfriend?).

Girl: "The spinach feta wrap is fantastic" (What boyfriend?)
Boy: "Perfect" (I like you)
Girl: Is this for here or to go? (I like you too!)
Boy: Oh, it's to go (I'm quite the catch)
Girl: That's 3.57 (Take off your clothes)
-Boy hands girl debit card (Come home with me?)
Girl swipes card, bats eyes (I'm off at ten)

Boy waits at the end of the counter watching girl. Girl smiles at boy while serving next customer, trips over words.

Girl gives boy sandwich: "There you go!" (You better come back and ask me out.)

Boy: Thank you (I will)

Girl swoons, boy swoons.

An hour later we wrap for the day. I go back and introduce myself. We're smiling, ignoring customers and employees... they watch the dance.
I get nervous all sudden like and instead of asking her for her number, I just invite her to our next show. She says "So you're a musician." By the look in her eye this information was a serious deal breaker due to a previous relationship with a musician that went horribly wrong. "I have to look you up, Jon"

She smiled and I left.

Point: I forgot my sexy powers. Nice to use them again. Regardless of fumble.

Thank you for your story Sue.

Growling through your teeth at the talented young actor across the table with the glass of red wine and killer sunglasses

I make ridiculous comedies and 70's cop show spoofs in my spare time.

Man oh man I wanted to be a filmmaker.
Holy hot shit I wanted to be a musician.
Aw man I couldn't take my eyes off of being a passionate man.
A life in a big city where artistic types could swoon over each other; and make it.
Wished for a puppy.
Wished for a camera.
Wished for sexual exploration.
Passionate love.
Pop music.
Leggy brunettes in flowery dresses with smarts that could kill.
Fancy restaurants.
Dive bars and corner diners.
Just to watch you walk.
The way you held my hand at the theater, in the dark, in love.
Oh God, I needed it.

When I was a younger man this seemed so far away and ultimately impossible- these thoughts unbearable. Heartbreaking. Defeating.

I read a passage in a book called 'House of Leaves'. It was about two men. One was content, the other was restless. The contented man enjoyed sitting on the porch smoking reefer and petting his dog; and would be happy doing only this for the rest of his life. In his younger years, the restless man could not figure out why he was never happy. He thought happiness was a goal. To combat his idle hands he took up photography, carpentry, and writing. He filled his life with activities that suited his creative nature. Then he realized he is not living to reach a goal. He is living for the process!

The contented man lives to be. The restless man lives to become.

When the heart has broken, it will heal.

Fanny

I've been working like a chain gang for your love
I've been working like a chain gang for your love
I've been hell bent on saving up for you
I've been working like a chain gang

I'm a big man on paper
I'm dying in the back rooms
I miss your face
I miss your face

There's a lion in my belly and I can't cut him out.
There's a lion in my belly and I can't cut him out.
I've been hell bent on saving up for you.

I miss your face
You loved me like a freight train
I love you like a bear
I miss your face

Drinking out of Boxes

You place a chain on my neck and swing me round like a prizefighter weathered and polished, placed in your pocket.
Take what you need and leave the rest on the stoop.
I’m a pillow you need when your bed is broken.

My body is a temple.

You fool around and sell our stories where I can see them and I’m not a part of anything you learn.
I’m a closet coat in a bag in your chest; you’re saving me for the winter in case you can’t afford a new one.
You say I’m the wish you spoke when your heart was broke.
When I came and said your name in love and adoration you shed your skin.

My body is a temple.
My body is a temple.