Playing with the temperature.

Tuesday March 11th found me on the front porch, eating granola by the handful. Delicious brown sugar rolled oats and raisins. Nobody ever kicks it on their front porch except for cigarette smokers and me, with my Dad's laptop on my knees and Regina Spektor playing through the speakers. I tend to stress out alot when I'm alone with an empty day in front of me. 'What am I going to do today? How is it going to be productive? Progressive? Revolutionary?' I don't usually start to ask myself these questions until about 40 minutes into an internet binge (the first order of business each morning), when I realize that I'm essentially shitting away my freedom into meaningless digital frivolity. Upon that realization I'm usually pretty frustrated, so I'll shut my computer down, grab a muffin or whatever and then just start walking. Movement is something - whether learned or instinctual - that I've come to associate with being productive. So when I get into these little frustrated fits it's always the first thing I turn to (harkening back to Santa Cruz, Canada, Australia...) and pretty soon I am blocks away from my house with no idea where I'm walking. This feels good at first because at least it's not stagnant and at least it's not the computer, but very quickly I start wondering what my purpose is, 'What the fuck am I doing here? Where am i going?'. Again, I am stressing. Hands jammed in pockets I'll start back towards my house feeling half defeated, half relieved, but altogether helpless. But not this morning.
As I walked up my stairs and slid my key into the lock I thought, How will I feel about these mornings when I'm 30? 40? Looking back, so upset with myself for overthinking such a simple pleasure. I am more free than anyone I know, so wealthy, so privileged, why would I ever worry about anything? Why not just relax? Why not eat a kiwi on the front porch, eat two kiwis on the front porch and watch the cars go by? These days of perfect freedom and emptiness are a gift, why would I throw them away by stressing myself? What else have I to do but eat good and sleep good and shoot little boy smiles at pretty girls jogging by the beach? So I broke out the bag of Granola I bought in San Luis Obispo, cut open a few pieces of fruit and took real slow breaths.

My life is perfect in the way that it is carefree. I'm going to leave this online distraction behind and make an apple pie from scratch. I'll leave you with Regina Spektor lyrics:

"Well maybe you should just drink a lot less coffee,
And never ever watch the ten o'clock news,
Maybe you should kiss someone nice,
Or lick a rock,
Or both."

"Maybe you should cut your own hair
'Cause that can be so funny
It doesn't cost any money
And it always grows back
Hair grows even after you're dead"

"And people are just people,
They shouldn't make you nervous.
The world is everlasting,
It's coming and it's going.
If you don't toss your plastic,
The streets won't be so plastic.
And if you kiss somebody,
Then both of you'll get practice."

"The world is everlasting
Put dirtballs in your pocket,
Put dirtballs in your pocket,
And take off both your shoes.
'Cause people are just people,
People are just people,
People are just people like you.
People are just people,
People are just people,
People are just people like you."

Well g'night.