I am in a mood. It is unfair to completly blame my state upon the absence of my lover although that poor situation most certainly exacerbates this affliction. Everything around me is moving a little too fast and I feel uncomfortable in my skin. At once tired and restless I have been wandering Brooklyn for 3 hours one step behind synchronicity.
This began as a friendly offer to accompany TwinA to the Disorient fundraiser. As usual the lab kept me late. As I walked to the train I started to become aware of how off I felt. The notion of prolonged social interaction became increasingly axiety inducing. Almost to the train Twin A texted me asking to pick up batteries since Leo had already laid claim to the DIY blinky pendant I was supposed to be wearing.
My raison d’être foiled, it was pure stubbornness that pushed me on. I bought 2 9V batteries for 7 dollars and continued on my way. On the platform I recognized Orion and several other Disorient core. He and I have spoken on many occasions and greeted each other by name just one week prior, but the anxiety that he might not remember me became too much to hazard the interaction. I willed myself invisible which doesn’t really work on anybody but Orion for some reason and he walked right by me without so much as a glance.
I rode the train to Bedford standing next to a man in a pink sequened miniskirt whom I once loaded a cargo container with. He was wearing the same straw cowboy hat. Still I felt to out of place to share my reverie with him. I stepped out at Bedford though no one else who mattered followed suit. Still, I would never trust my portage to the G train so I contined on through the vapid wasteland that is the Bedford stop on the L.
True Greenpoint is by no means a short walk from Bedford and it was several hours and text exchanges with Twin A before I caught sight of the telltale pink afro wigs which are the hallmark of the Disorient subcultural niche.
This particular confectory halo was enveloping Jewels. Which presented a gamut of complex social issues. Jewels is dear to my heart and yet to see her outside of the context of our conclave would force a necessary reevaluation of our working relationship. It could be weeks before I would be comfortable working with her once the formalities I usually hide behind were washed away. Again, obfuscated my ego and added another person to the short list of people that actually worked on.
Dawn however is not on that list. Her training and former career addressed the wretched individuals who suffer from legitamate mental afflictions rather than my own self indulgent melancholic bouts. She caught me hiding behind a lightpost waiting for TwinA to come get me. Forced before an audience I searched for the appropriate poise but could find nothing within me.
At the door I was somewhat relieved to discover that I had no ID or valid proof of age. In self directed obstinance I made sure I wasn’t hiding my liscence from myself to cop out on the evening. It has been months since I went to a legitamate establishment via the front door, perhaps over a year. I made my apologies to all concerned and made a mental note to put the search for or perhaps the replacement of my liscence on my “to do” list after collecting my tax returns and buying Shinkansen tickets from Tokyo to Kobe.
I won’t recount the rest of my evening but succinctly, I learned about Grand st vs Grand ave and forgot to remember to check the cab meter, especially in Brooklyn where they can plausibly deny you ever existed. On the way home my old friend Deb texted me inviting me to her wrap party for her recent sculpture. In that instant an evening in the company of old friends seemed like the bromide I needed so badly. Those people were well aware of the trainwreck that becomes of my social grace. And for a moment I was cured.
This moment quickly passed as the batteries in my pocket bridged and began to overheat. The silicone skin of my phone had sheilded me long enough for the batteries to reach a critical temperature and just as my old compatriots communication was lifting my spirits scalding alkalai gel filled my pocket and burned my skin.
As I briskly removed my pants and let the cold shower washed over me a few minutes and a short cab ride later. I thought a out the evening and came to a realization. I should have stayed home.