Times is Rough

its so late, so i apologize in advance if i cut this short. its 2 a.m. central daylight time. god i love doing that... its so nice to orient myself (and everyone reading this) in time. set the stage. get the mood right. i spent the evening with an old high school friend, and then came home to check on katrina's slow progress towards new orleans.

i'm filled with foreboding. things are not going to be good for new orleans in the coming hours. the entire friggin' city is below sea-level as it is... has been for centuries. as my dad said, "its shaped like a bowl!" and alas, he's right. they are expecting sea swells close to thirty feet high. it will be swamped. there's something terrifying about natural disasters like this. cities aren't typically destroyed these days. at least, not by nature, and not all in one go. its biblical, on a level unmatched in normal, day to day, modern life.

of course, perhaps i'm just projecting. the recent tsunami destroyed countless cities and villages. i haven't been to thailand, but i have been to the french quarter... its all a matter of positioning. still, it makes me sad. i don't like to watch the endless news reports; they're like pornography. they remind me that there is a part of me that would like to watch the disaster and be entertained. and i am ashamed of that. there is also a part of me that feels vaguely guilty that there is nothing i can do. which is ridiculous. but there it is. i'm am the world's biggest closet narcissist.

and i do like new orleans. sure, it got kind of overhyped after all the anne rice novels hit big, and it's touristed out and silly, but its still mad cool. its muggy and hazy, and more magical than most cities i can think of. and it was dangerous and seductive before all that was "cool" and "stuff". and its held on so goddamned tenaciously to its little patch of river mud for so long, fighting nature and the mississippi to exist its broken down creole existence. maybe this is just karma finally catching up. but its still sad. and i'm sad.

on another sad note, i spent this evening with estevan, my old high school chum. we used to be really close. but as the years have gone by, we've drifted. he actually has a girlfriend now, and she seems as insecure and depressed as he is from what he tells me. together, they're going to write a twelve step guide on how to commit inner suicide. you kill yourself inside, and all the worrying and sadness and depression go away, and you are reborn. the first step is to stop caring about shit. personally, i do not think this sounds healthy.

this is the reason i find myself unable to tolerate prolonged exposure to estevan. i think he is a really great guy in a lot of respects, and he deserves more than he's willing to demand or even desire. but he thinks that everything is shitty, and he's shitty, and its just the state of things and he should get over it and get on with life. i want him to feel like a good person who deserves good things, because maybe that will help him act in ways that will help him be happier. and i say this. and he looks at me like i'm from mars. my "help" is not appreciated.

and lets face it, not everyone is looking for my help. josh, you are not the world's encyclopedia. its nice that you like helping to fix things and people, but it is not the only way to relate to people. estevan is an interesting lesson in not judging and evaluating others on my terms and telling them what they need to do differently, but simply letting them exist, and being happy that they are happy. even though i can't believe that he's really happy. my shit. not his.

so that's my old friend. and it was nice to see him. and it was nice to have someone, anyone, to talk to, and that's why we stayed out until one in the morning. i'm lonely, and times is rough, and sometimes the best you can do is twelve steps to inner suicide. though he thinks that i'm going about it all wrong. to which i say a silent "thank god!"