This has been a weird week. I was called out for showing a silly gesture of appreciation, called out for being defensive because I offered a position counter, taken for a trip around the moon in a biplane of general Shelly’s making, accompanied only by thoughts of joy I saw in others and cursed into damnation for being in a hurry. I have spent entire nights awake, some by design others not so. On two, I actually produced several things that I have a passion for and that I believe have a chance to come to be. I will most likely see little benefit, if any, directly. They weren’t for me; they were more for where I believe we need to head.
I have listened to Floyd County All Stars at least a dozen times and still go back to John Butler who I have yet to tire of after close to at least two months. This back and forth is a is a good rut to be in. They both make me happy for different reasons. I am saving my Floyd County All Star tee shirt for my trip to Lexington this weekend. It is a tough choice between my FEITCTAJ and this one, so it is a good thing I am staying both Friday and Saturday night. You have to dress proper when in the big city. Most likely my third tee for the weekend will be my yellow Free State of Appalachia, because the free state mood is exactly that which I will carry through the weekend. I really don’t see that a Floyd County Yell will be in the offing. I will be on good behavior.
I am attending a wedding of a young lady I love dearly yet really hardly know but have known her for her forever. I don’t like weddings, but I am so looking forward to this one. I will stay downtown. I will get up early and walk the streets of Lexington before it most of it knows that it is even time to wake up. Those are good times. I wish I had a camera. The phones thingy just doesn’t work in these situations. It is no one’s fault but my own that I have not replaced my camera. I have wasted more money on other things than the camera would cost.
I blame Hilton for the extra day. Early check ins are not something to depend on. I don’t mind the motel bill as much as the money I will most likely spend on some sort of odd thing that I like but don’t need. Some may think it arty, for me it is something Iess complicated; Certain things appeal to me and I never know what they are. Maybe that is why I don’t buy a camera; Because I need it and I know I will like it. Maybe that is the contradiction the folks referenced in the first paragraph see in me, if for no other reason than because none of them can be directly attributed to my resting bitch face. It has to be the person I project myself to be. It is sometimes tough trying to be a kind asshole.
I just started writing this a few minutes ago. I can’t really tell where I have been, and I am not sure where I am heading. I know this kind of nonsense, though a stimulant of sorts at this time, cannot be continued for much longer. It is a far cry from the Quiet Dignity I had hoped to begin capturing months ago. I should have paid more attention in English, I suppose, and I am still in search of an appropriate way to sacrifice (exorcise?) Elegy. So, I think I will stop.
Feel the Burg 