today i wrote my first to-do list since i left to visit my brother in woodacre california nestled in the hills and greenery in marin county next to fairfax california colloquially referred to as Maybury on Acid by its residents and admirers. my brother got sick and then my mom got sick and then my brother had to go to mexico for a week long integrative medicine ibogaine treatment. there was a baby and a seven year old girl and a basement to sleep on the floor in the same room as my parents. there was medical marijuana and butane hash oil and lots of crystals carved out of the two amethyst mines my brother bought two years ago, everywhere. in the soapdish on the porch on each step on each notch of each fence and each windowsill table and countertop. and piled up and lined up to mark a trail in the ground with the sun bouncing hard off them and hitting your eye bright.
i met my new sister-in-law-but-not-really-the-law and we stayed up after she put the baby to sleep and watched two episodes of girls in a row two nights in a row. my brothers house got burglarized and my laptop got stolen along with my nephew’s mother’s laptop and camera but nothing else really—except for harmony’s swear jar. all of their money and hash and all of their rocks remained. even the ones as big as footballs and purple and see-through with rainbows caught inside them. i went to good earth almost every single day and bought a lot of different types of organic chocolate and cacao and maca root and vegetable probiotics and craft juices and bottled chai tea and coffee kombuchas. each trip anywhere felt like a field trip with several steps of preparation and feeding the baby and calming the baby and strapping the baby in and winding left and then right fifty times for every half-mile. passing cows and a pond and a tree wrapped around a large rock surrounded by 500 feet of flat green pasture in every direction and vignetted by sudden hills and bushes each time we left the house.
i came home a couple days ago to mean text messages from my brother and a chill i thought i wouldn’t feel again, having left for a warm place at what i’d been told was the end of our long winter. though i’d been told before, it really felt like they meant it this time. but we were all pretty desperate and we still are. the whether is dipping into the high thirties every couple days still and staying just warm enough for us to feel like it’s finally spring but still not exhaling, still anticipating the snow and the chilling cold and the not being able to walk even a block without constantly thinking about not wanting to walk even a block, expressed by myself mostly as “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” arms crossed and body bent inward. i don’t know if i’ll ever get over this winter 2014, but when i was in california i felt like i’d left it behind. though california isn’t perfect and my laptop was stolen and my brother was mean to me and said terrible things and I don’t want to go back but i don’t want to be here either—not when winter comes back and maybe not at all either. people’s handshakes were less firm in marin county and that was weird but when you spoke to strangers or acquaintances you weren’t both acutely aware of exit strategy. i felt like i was less worried about how i looked and i felt like i was less worried about what i did. but what would i do there anyway?
anyway yesterday i received a self-addressed care package with a strand of weed called Cookie Monster which i’m supposed to return to my dad, and a strand called Super Cheese which is just for me and the nights I can’t seem to wind down and get to sleep. I woke up early on accident, still on active uncle to baby and 7-year-old schedule and decided to put my work clothes and towels in the laundry and get chilaquiles next door. i smoked some Cookie Monster, packed up my clothes and walked to the laundromat, thinking about how i love getting stoned and doing laundry because it was this celebration of having the time to do laundry and today to be in the sun and the outdoors without putting on every layer and bending inward and crossing my arms and thinking “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck”. it means i can afford to not be doing much else for the amount of time that it takes to do laundry, and it means i can afford to enjoy it and buy myself a coke and smoke a cigarette on the short walk to the laundromat and back i’ll take a couple times to write a few things down or do a dish or two between wash and dry.
- put my clothes in the dryer and noticed i could see my reflection inside and a rainbow stretching across it with my clothes in the foreground. i closed the door and i put the quarters in and the dryer below the one i’d intended to pay for started running. i opened the door and took a picture of the inside of the dryer with my phone, took another picture and then took my clothes out and put them in the dryer i’d paid for.
i walked into dollar general and saw that the line was to the end of the store with only one register open and walked out without losing any of the momentum i’d used to walk in and the cashier laughed
i’m about to walk back to dollar general and try again to buy a coke and then walk across the street to the laundromat to take my clothes out of the dryer like i should have done 45 minutes ago. i still haven’t clipped my nails yet or finished this tv show but i have two and a half hours left before i have to leave for work.
i finish writing the previous draft of this account and
i close my computer. i pack up my stuff. wallet, phone, headphones, hoodied sweatshirt. i put a cigarette in my mouth and receive a text from my brother:
" ‘i awoke from the sickness at the age of 29 , calm and same and in reasonably good health except for a weakened liver and the look of borrowed flesh, common to all those who have survived the sickness’ w.b."
i close my computer and pat my pockets and i leave for the laundry that’s been dry for an hour
can someone tell me if this was worth writing
i never thought things were worth writing
and lately im not sure so i figured id write some things and then see if they were worth writing afterwards
also idk can someone tlel me what this is or what reading it does to them
srsly be honest bros
pretend its critique and u dont mind brusing my ego in the name of Art / Time Spent More Effectively