Welcome To My Bed

Out of sorts.


Some days, I feel as destroyed as Ryan Gosling in Half Nelson, but I'm definitely not addicted to cocaine, so I have to explain it away as emotional instability. Today I think it has a lot to do with how run down I get before a big slam. The Grand Slam for the last slot on the Providence nationals team is tonight, and I'm competing. I haven't been letting letting myself dwell on it, but it finally caught up to me yesterday when I was at Tazza with DC. Afterwards we went back to AS 220 and half passed out on his couch. I could have slept like that all night based on how exhausted I had been feeling for most of the day, but I woke up to him having a nose bleed and realized that it was after two - parking ticket time. I didn't want to go though. I have serious trouble leaving ailing people behind, even if it's just a good friend with his head tipped back looking a little pale. I don't like walking out of rooms uncertain of how the people left in them will continue on. It's probably a symptom of the fact that I worry too much.

I woke up well into the afternoon today and ran poems while making falafel for lunch, and though I have at least seven of them stored up and ready to fire at any given time, I feel unnerved. Not nervous really, just a little frayed and jittery. I'm hoping to make a good showing tonight. I don't want to think about it. Not in the slightest. My sister is coming to see me perform for the first time. I feel a little ridiculous.

In less stressful news, I finished the proof for my latest chapbook at about 3 AM today. It's a little bit of a hybrid with a zine because everything is handwritten and there are collage aspects to it. I'm going to take it to a copy shop in the next few days and get some printed up for my feature in a few weeks. Something to look forward to. I got invited to perform tonight after the slam at Snookers, and I got another invite to perform during Sound Session at Tazza in a few weeks. Networking in this city has been very good to me. I feel like such a part of the arts community. It's going to hurt to leave this place in September. I keep having a feeling that if I leave and come back, it won't be the same. I want to finish school and I only have one year left, but I getting very attached to a life independent of academia and the strife constantly caused by college students. But anyway, a preview of the chapbook:


I promise better pictures when it's printed, cut, stapled, and ready for business. They'll be for sale on the 23rd, but if you want one and you're not able to make it to Providence that night, just let me know and we can work something out.