January 26, 2014
I went to see Bogart yesterday and he is pretty much the last of the crew that I knew there. Maybe one or two others are still there, but they came right before I left. Even Sadie, Kendall Goth Girl, and the guy who was always trying to grope me are gone. So it’s just Bogart. Like a shelter dog that never gets adopted because no matter how loveable he is, he’s too wild to train or he just doesn’t fit in. When I first got there he rushed me and wrapped his arms around me. He’s taller than me but he just gripped onto my body like he was in need of comfort. Then he started crying. His sobs were as liberated and loud as a two-year-old’s. He begged me to get him out of there, he wanted to leave, he wanted to come home with me. I told him that maybe we can make that happen, but he doesn’t even have rights with regards to decision making that pertains to him. It all depends on his mother. Then he said he hates her and called her a stupid fucking cow. I don’t know if this is just a natural mood change for him or if something triggered this, but I think I’d rather have him punch me in the face with elation at my visit than to see him so broken. I gave the staff my phone number to put with his stuff that’s locked up, so if he ever gets out before I have the chance to see him again, he’ll have it and he can contact me.
Anyway, I’m finally putting in my journal the things Kristin gave me when I was leaving. I wish I had a chance to say goodbye, she was really cool.
She gave me this drawing of a bunch of symbols, and said it was for my protection:
Then she gave me this poem:
I think maybe she was in love with me, but she was so cryptic and profound, who knows. Anyway, it’s too bad I’ll probably never see her again, but it was awesome to have crossed ways for a least a brief time in this life.
After visiting Bogart, I went to my mom’s to dig through some of my old stuff. While I was there, she pulled out a box of her own, and there were a few drawings that I did as a kid that I thought were pretty funny.
The first one she had written that I was 4 1/2 years old when I drew it:
So I have a scarecrow, with what seems to be a crow on his arm, so he kind of sucks at his job. And he’s standing by what seems to be a haystack, kind of in the shape of a barn, but I’m just going with hay stack. And a jack-o-lantern. All this in a field of tulips. So what the fuck does the farmer grow? Tulips? And the scarecrow is meant to protect the tulips. He’s also got to guard that hay, can’t lose that hay. Good thing he has his good old buddy jack-0-lantern by his side. But I think the scarecrow is too friendly with that big happy face, so the crow, who looks kind of like a duck, has no worries. And I remember when I was a kid drawing the blue sky on all the outdoor pictures, like the sky is just above in this layer of blue overhead, and not all around. It’s also good that the farmer mowed the side of the haystack where the scarecrow is, so he has a place to stand. This is like the farmland of the misfits.
Ok then I drew this picture of a cop and a guy in jail, I don’t know how old I was when I drew it:
The cop is so huge and the guy in jail is half his size, so I guess I’ll assume that the cop is closer. I’ll give myself enough credit for having that kind of perspective, so maybe I was older when I drew it. The cop has a grin, kind of a smirk on his face. Not really a smile because it’s kind of crooked, which is interesting. The guy in jail looks sad as he stands in his striped jail suit. At least he seems to have a window, even though it’s all barred up. It looks more like a cage than a jail though. The guy has no place to sit or shit.
I see the cop has a billy club that looks a lot like a banana, or a dick, not intentional I’m sure. And he has a holster with a gun that also looks like a banana or a dick. He has handcuffs and a chain. What the fuck is the chain for? I’m going to assume it has the keys to the jail on it, but I don’t see any keys. Maybe it’s a necklace. A pearl necklace that he wants to give the crook. Which is why he has his dicks out, because he’s going to jerk off on the guy’s neck. That’s why he has that smirk and the criminal doesn’t look so happy. Obviously I’m just filling in all that, I wouldn’t have drawn that as a kid. Unless I was thinking Uncle Dan was the criminal. But I won’t go there right now. I do notice that the cop’s shoes are nicely tied, and that he’s so huge, the floor seems to cave in a little beneath him.
Ok my last pictures are of Ernie and Burt from Sesame Street when I was 4:
I like these, but they look like Ernie and Burt on acid or something. Ernie’s head doesn’t look so much like a football and his ears are really sticking out, and his eyes are rolling around in different directions. In fact, he looks more like Burt than Burt does, with that unibrow. Burt unfortunately looks like he’s being electrocuted. He’s surrounded by all these blue swirls and he’s looking at something specific. Maybe he’s freakin’ out from the acid and has built the blue light of protection, but I think he’s in a different dimension from Ernie altogether.
Anyway, it was kind of cool to go through all this old stuff, but my mom was getting sentimental. I liked doing it though. It would be even cooler if I could remember back to what I was thinking when I drew this shit. You’d think it would trigger some memories but it doesn’t. It’s messed up how life is that we can’t retain all our memories. The mind is kind of a randomly malfunctioning thing.
My theme song for today is “Tubthumping” by Chubawamba because I remember this song from when I was a kid and I loved it, which is kind of interesting when you think about how my life has turned out so far.
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