From a Letter

Maybe I called myself a moron because I didn’t do anything about that relationship, but I let her slip away. And you’re right: not all Brits and Europeans think alike. I was just writing in my journal about valuing security and comfort every day of my life. I think I’ll give up my persona of the existential hero on my blog and be honest with myself about what motivates me. Surrounding myself with lots of books and music is actually the safe way to learn more about life, but I don’t get the magnitude of experience that I would from something real. My dad was like a character out of a William Faulkner novel or a play by Eugene O’Neill: immovable like a tree firmly rooted to the ground. And I believe that this is a creed of people who drink alcohol. It seems to be built into my family system; that is, the value of comfort and security. Do you remember my post about Scuffy the Tugboat, the picture book given me by my grandmother when I was five years old? The bottom line of the story is safety, like Dorothy at the end of Wizard of Oz: there’s no place like home. Anyway, I looked at my behavior and saw a discrepancy between my words and my deeds, the same way Dr T observed me years ago. Most of my writing is just a bluff, and what drives me is the craving for peace and security— just like my dad. Just like another character from Yaknapatawpha County in Faulkner’s Mississippi. (I doubt if I spelled that right.)

Again it’s sunny and smoky here after a cloudy morning. I don’t know when it’s going to rain but we really need it. Speaking of books, I thought about taking out my volume of HG Wells for a look at The Island of Doctor Moreau. I read it during the summer of 04 but I forget how it ends. That same summer I read The Time Machine as well. He wrote some really great ones; The Invisible Man, The War of the Worlds, The First Men in the Moon, etc. Doctor Moreau is quite powerful for me and it makes you wonder about the nature of being animal versus being human. Where does one stop and the other begin? What is the essence of humanity?

I noodled around on my jazz bass again today and had some fun with it. Sounds great. If I only had a car then I could think about being in a band and playing some gigs. But this is me bluffing again, probably. If I wanted to buy a car badly enough then I’d go ahead and do it. The fact is that I don’t do it. But does that mean never?

Maybe it just takes me a long time to decide to do something. Maybe it takes a little push to get me moving.


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