The Source Of All Unhappiness

I moved to California 21/2 years ago and everything has changed. The first impulse is to say that things are somehow "worse" now, but any consideration renders this feeling ineligible and mute. Things are better than they have ever been. It's the boy who's changed. All the California transplants have changed by now. Nick no longer possesses the manic energy he used to have. Joel has lost his sense of direction/purpose. Dan...

Well, Dan is a little smarter, a bit wiser, but more or less the same. The biggest difference is that he doesn't talk about penises as much. I trust he's counting on Prague to do some of the work and infuse him with a myriad of sexual experiences and the unique opportunity to be Dan without boundaries (though I couldn;t imagine him as anything else).

Some things will always stay the same. Nick will always be a bit too pensive. Dan will always defy explanation. As for me? I will always be the fragile one.

My fragfility is not of the emotional or metaphysical sense. I am physically fragile. I'm sort of physically a tank, but any physical ailment is enough to knock me off my game. In this regard I am inextricably my Mother's son. As a child I would hear her complain about the slightest, slightest ailment and scoff t the fact that it mattered at all. How could it? It was jusrt a tweak to her physical form, nothing more, nothing less.

As a child I distanced myself from my parents, thinking I had nothing to do with them I went through life as Jolly Joel, a creature that did a lot of strange things in hopes of somehow going someplace else. Dad might have been mournful and Mom might have been meticulous but that shit had nothing to do with me.

Then I grew up...

I saw Spider-Man 2 with a beautiful girl who was my on and off girlfriend for three years. During the film, like it always goes during the best films, I got a poporn kernal caught in my teeth. I saw the rest of the movie, realized it was a really great film, but wasn't really there. My mind was occupied by the shell of corn lodged betweeen two of my teeth.

The rest of the night was a typical Dearborn circa 2004 night. We drove around in my 1993 Mercury Villager (the greatest gift that has ever been granted). After dropping off (I don't remember the details but I'm willing to guess) Nick, Dan, and some combination of John/Pete, we settled outside my house. This was the point where we wopuld usually make out. I suppose she really wanted to. I couldn't do it. I was physically randy but unable to go any further because of the damned popcorn kernal. I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about the popcorn kernal. I went inside my house and brushed my teeth. It didn't work. I went back to her and informed her that "I can't kiss you because of the popcorn kernal in my teeth". Even if my life leads to an extremely messy divorce, I know no woman will ever be as angry at me as one was then.

I feel like I'm 47 years old.

Today I awoke with a horrible eye infection. I had to miss class (b/c it was contagious) and wear an eyepatch (that or get a horrible headache). I'm wearing this thing because I thought it would be fun. It isn't. My vision is slightly altered,. It is good enough to see, fair enough to recognize, but I can't get past it. This one blip on the scale of humanity is enough to doom me for the rest of the day. I can't do shit with this shit on. Seeing incorrectly is driving me to the brink of insanity.

I knew I wanted to work on the ol' Novel today. That isn't happening today. Not with this eyepatch. If a beautiful woman burst into my house riding a unicorn and offering true love, I would demure because I can;t think of anything except this damned eyepatch.

I truly am my Mother's son.

Love to all. Love to everyone.

Joel CULLEN Walkowski