Wednesday, May 21, 2014
That's a sign from the parking lot of the Arclight Cinemas, the very fancy movie theater where I go to see movies when I go to see movies. I used to joke around with my friend D that one day we'd become bank robbers, and lately I've felt like busting out. Hitting the road, getting the hell out of Dodge, starting over, forgetting the past, to hell with the Zen stuff -- you know, right? Or not. Maybe I'm just sort of simpatico with Sophie, who must feel like peeling off her skin as that drug is eliminated from her system. Wait. Who am I kidding with that presumption? While I battle, often, with the mixed identity thing -- where does Sophie begin and I start or where do I end and she begin? -- she is on her own path, and as much as I like to think I'm in charge, in control, I'm really just walking beside her. Except for when I am forced to make outrageous "choices" and decisions for her general welfare, like putting her on those 21 (yes, I mis-counted, and she's been on 21) drugs despite the sick feeling in my stomach each and every time. There's a lot of f**keroo bonzai to process here, so humor me. I've always had a problem with Authority. Sophie seemed better, today, thank Jesus -- went off to school with a bit of spring in her step. This is to be expected, evidently, the on again off again nature of the waning wean days. We upped the CBD in hopes that it'd help with the detox, so let's see what happens.
In the meantime, buck authority.
Drink all you want in a parking garage.
Loiter with your friends and rotate your tires.
Repair your vehicle.
Hell, exercise your body and your mouth.