Adventures in the Outside World
Aug. 28th, 2015 01:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonVampire Country. 29 hours after yesterday's bad news and riding shotgun on Operation Reload with the Princess. I'm along on the Op for little more than moral support, the Princess nervous about meeting a new Contact who I've known a few years now through circles Perilous. On the Dante Scale this Contact is pure 1st ring, a virtuous pagan through and through, so I wasn't sweating the situation.
The original plan tonight actually was to brood in the dark, contemplate the recent defeat I'm stumbling out of as I start focusing in on the demands of the project ahead. Already I find myself jotting down snatches of diabolical bon mots countered by holy metaphysical zingers. Then deleting them the next day when sobriety fails to hear their music. The original plan was to do something at the gym. Fight the fat and the poison and the years, train earnestly to have the strength to do something that three years ago I was too weak to do. To lift my toppled father from the earth, to be a son strong enough to raise his blood fallen.
Ah, there's that ugly music again, ride it through, ride it out until the buzz fades and who knows maybe sleep will kick in before the dawn for a change.
The original plan was not to reluctantly say yes to the Princess on a brief Op to Vampire Country, a plan I stuck to until she said please. That's the rule, the one I rarely have to worry about, but when a friend says please, I don't say no. Those of you who know me know why. So I had a few drinks, ate a salad (eye roll), caught up. Did that thing you do when you grow up a latchkey kid in the 80s, where you learn to talk in insults because that's how people talk on TV.
Been having trouble with crowds of late, especially the ones where they know me, my face, my out of fashion 'fiction suit'. I got Cobra Kai sitting to the right of me, Lady Trouble a booth to the left, Nurse Feisty dolled up by the bar and Bob Dracula off somewhere making the rounds. I try to acknowledge them, but I can't find it in me to talk to anyone. Flustered and jammed up where I don't want to be, the voice. My Emergency Back Up Personality subroutines don't tend to activate until at least three drinks in and I'm still working on my first. It's been a few weeks since the last one. Careful though, feed the EBUP too much too quick and shit goes from zero to id in under an hour. Cut to scene of the illuminated Id-Beast from Forbidden Planet howling in rage when caught in the electric fence of Space Prospero.
One of dad's favorite movies come to think of it.
But as quick as I can think it the Princess says something out of left field that makes me laugh or makes me say something that makes me laugh (as I'm prone to do when, well if not happy then certainly relieved). The adventures of Veronica and Jughead in the 21st Century. Ah, but then the Contact arrives, Imake small talk easy, the EBUP sputtering into life against the quiet vigil of my nature, then make my way to the Head to give them time to talk business.
Objective accomplished, I say saluting myself in the mirror, request permission for Evac after one more for the road. Request permission to go cream in the dark with words on a page because it's the only place left I can scream anymore without scaring anybody.
Permission granted, I wink back after giving it some thought, and fuck off I go back into the crowded world I'm trying to remember how to be a part of.
The original plan tonight actually was to brood in the dark, contemplate the recent defeat I'm stumbling out of as I start focusing in on the demands of the project ahead. Already I find myself jotting down snatches of diabolical bon mots countered by holy metaphysical zingers. Then deleting them the next day when sobriety fails to hear their music. The original plan was to do something at the gym. Fight the fat and the poison and the years, train earnestly to have the strength to do something that three years ago I was too weak to do. To lift my toppled father from the earth, to be a son strong enough to raise his blood fallen.
Ah, there's that ugly music again, ride it through, ride it out until the buzz fades and who knows maybe sleep will kick in before the dawn for a change.
The original plan was not to reluctantly say yes to the Princess on a brief Op to Vampire Country, a plan I stuck to until she said please. That's the rule, the one I rarely have to worry about, but when a friend says please, I don't say no. Those of you who know me know why. So I had a few drinks, ate a salad (eye roll), caught up. Did that thing you do when you grow up a latchkey kid in the 80s, where you learn to talk in insults because that's how people talk on TV.
Been having trouble with crowds of late, especially the ones where they know me, my face, my out of fashion 'fiction suit'. I got Cobra Kai sitting to the right of me, Lady Trouble a booth to the left, Nurse Feisty dolled up by the bar and Bob Dracula off somewhere making the rounds. I try to acknowledge them, but I can't find it in me to talk to anyone. Flustered and jammed up where I don't want to be, the voice. My Emergency Back Up Personality subroutines don't tend to activate until at least three drinks in and I'm still working on my first. It's been a few weeks since the last one. Careful though, feed the EBUP too much too quick and shit goes from zero to id in under an hour. Cut to scene of the illuminated Id-Beast from Forbidden Planet howling in rage when caught in the electric fence of Space Prospero.
One of dad's favorite movies come to think of it.
But as quick as I can think it the Princess says something out of left field that makes me laugh or makes me say something that makes me laugh (as I'm prone to do when, well if not happy then certainly relieved). The adventures of Veronica and Jughead in the 21st Century. Ah, but then the Contact arrives, Imake small talk easy, the EBUP sputtering into life against the quiet vigil of my nature, then make my way to the Head to give them time to talk business.
Objective accomplished, I say saluting myself in the mirror, request permission for Evac after one more for the road. Request permission to go cream in the dark with words on a page because it's the only place left I can scream anymore without scaring anybody.
Permission granted, I wink back after giving it some thought, and fuck off I go back into the crowded world I'm trying to remember how to be a part of.