Listening:
"We Float," PJ Harvey
"Jackie's Strength," Tori Amos
"Jesus doesn't Want Me for a Sunbeam," Nirvana
"Famous Blue Raincoat," Tori Amos
"Humming," Portisehead
"An Echo, A Stain," Bjork
"Idioteque," Radiohead

If you've been paying attention you would know that I tend to have my moods that can grip me for a few days at a time. Little swings can occur inside of them but the overall mood climate stays put for a little while.

The past few days I've been feeling somewhere between sad/frustrated and desolate to idon'tknowwhat. It's not that I've been really depressed. That's not really it. But my frustration is currently coming out of not being able to find the right words for the thoughts I want to get across. I've been obessing over words for the past few days, and that always means what I want to say gets stuck in my throat, or somewhere around my wrists and doesn't really see the light of day.

I wish I were good at drawing or music or...something that didn't require the intermediary of language. Something that would adequately explain being stared at by two large and complex blue eyes that were searching for something and knowing that I was searching for something too. I want to be able to express the weight around my hips and my neck when I have to sit under flourescent lighting for nine hours a day. The inexpressible freedom of standing under dappled sunlight observing normal folk walking their dogs. I want to take my observation of dark averted eyes and give it all to you, unfettered by spelling, definition, pacing or even an explanation.

On a warm, slightly muggy night in San Pedro I stand on the curb next to my car that has been refusing to start. I wait on the phone for the woman from AAA to tell me that she can't really help me because who on earth has a garage open at eleven at night? In fact, I can only get seven miles of free towing and there is no AAA-certified garages in that radius (could it be because a large amount of that radius is the Pacific Ocean?).

I spent yesterday out of words, but feeling too frustrated to just give up and give in. So I ended the day as stressed out as I began it. Generally speaking, there are two times when I have bad insomnia - when I do very little during the day to challenge/work out my brain and when I'm very stressed. I've been quite stressed the past two nights.

I didn't have any Web access yesterday because I called in a personal day to work to deal with the car and could not get to my apartment (San Pedro being approximately 20 miles from downtown). I could have gone back to Squires where I had spent the previous night tossing and turning in his stuffy apartment, but opted for Molasses' place. Got in a shower and a harried nap. I was exhausted but couldn't relax enough to get in some good sleep. And the apartment's phone line was out so DSL was gone too.

I kept telling myself I just wanted my car back and everything would be okey after that. But I don't really believe it. I was saving some good money for vacation but most of it is gone. I get paid once more this weekend, but most of it will go toward rent and car insurance. And I know Molasses just wants the best for me but when I start to freak I reach out and hit anything that gets close enough. There was so much I wanted to make him understand but at the basis of it all I wanted him to learn something of me without the use of words. Of course, at that point all I had to offer him were unexplained tears. I tried covering his mouth with a hand but it wasn't going anywhere.

I want to escape the shackles of language. Just for a little while. But I'm not sure if it's possible and I'm less sure that my brain will accept any such foolishness. The problem, as always is the reality of the situation. It takes time, resources. Space. Can't just waltz out of the house of language in an afternoon. What's more the way out is a complicated one. It's not really been mapped, just stumbled on. Those who look for "a way out" will, perforce, miss it. But it's been my understanding that those in the complete throws of action and reaction, of thorough doing have walked blindly to it. Of course anything that breaks such a reverie forces them back in. There is no forgetting to speak temporarily.

Don't get me wrong there's plenty of things that can happen to a person's ability to speak or communicate through other means, and even to understand his native language. But those things tend be to physiological in nature. There's also being at a loss for words, but that's not nearly the same thing as just not having words. Maybe if I wandered off to a faraway place where I don't speak the language. But that just makes for being alone. Being alone makes for having several trains of thought zooming through my head haphazardly processing all the information my brain recieves into either English or Spanish or both. And I'll just be cataloging my experiences so that I can relate them to someone eventually.

I just wish...sometimes... that I don't know... that I had something else at my disposal.