Homonculus

“We don’t have any jobs you would qualify for.” Says the program director at this youth outreach building my girlfriend works at. I thought I did a really good job at not showing my embarassment as she saw me out the building, but I sensed that she sensed it anyway. Bought a outfit from the nearby thrift store to cushion the depression.

There’s a thorn in my mind that I can’t seem to draw, laugh or sleep off. Not writing about it seems to have interesting consequences: mood swings of the sort. I don’t know where to begin. Its a feeling deep and heavy in my chest that I can’t seem to articulate into words; kind of like when someone asks “why do you love me?” - if someone asked “what’s bothering you?”, I’d probably never find any words to start a sentence with.

Maybe I’m unhappy. Maybe I’m unhappy with something in my life. Maybe I’m unhappy with something that is not in my life; friends, for starters. I keep fantasizing about having a kickback with some people but, hmm… you know, I think that would cheer me up to just call over a few artheads and play cards and listen to music.

Meanwhile.

There’s something bothering me. Maybe its “me” bothering me. Maybe there’s nothing bothering me and that’s actually bothering me somehow. Maybe I don’t feel secure; like something bad is about to happen; like I did something wrong; like I’m in the way; like I’m not good enough; like I’m homeless; like I’m poor.

I’m 21.

I’m a poor person now. Before I moved out of my Dad’s place last year my income level was understandable because I didn’t have any real help or resources/resource skills/food/other things people like me need before going out into the world by ourselves. But now that I’ve moved out I can’t seem to shake this pressurized cloud of judgement above my head that makes me feel this terrible “inferiority”. And that makes me not want to make art or talk or eat or be vulnerable with anyone. Moreso, crawl into a hole and die in my sleep.

Since I’ve been back to Minneapolis I’ve been bumping back and forth between sleeping at my girlfriend’s house and my dad’s apartment without having the privelage to call either place home, let alone the right. There may be nothing else to add to this blog entry. I could very well attempt to make it a long read but.. matters are very simple: I am looking for my home; a place to belong. Its somewhere here in this city.

Perhaps the time has come to embrace the loneliness and use this time to find a roommate on Craigslist.

Finished the final exit exam. Currently sitting across the street from the school waiting for the bus unsure of what to feel or how to feel it. All I know is that I am finished..

Currently thinking thoughts. Things I would say to people who ask me how I feel:

“Well, I don’t know. All I know is that the next man or woman who tells me I ain’t got shit or I don’t know what I’m doing is getting punched in the fuckin face so… I guess I feel hostile.”

Its strange, I don’t feel the kind of happiness you see at the end of a urban drama movie or something where a young person of color overcomes some large obstacle due to his environment; tears and whatnot - no - I feel a very “belligerent” happiness. If you saw my facial expression you would think that someone just said something to offend me moments ago. But instead a gentle woman has just said to me “Ok, so I’ll mail you your diploma to you and when the the test results come in I can send you your transcript for if your getting a job.”

“Thanks. Ok cool, thanks”, I said smiling.

“It was nice meeting you. Have a good flight.”

“Ok, you too!”

Hmm.. I either said “ok, you too” because I’m not good at goodbye’s or because I’m much more happy than I originally thought. I suppose this is one of those situations where the emotional effect of the event is so big that it takes a while to settle in. Maybe it’ll hit me later.

Another of my last uneventful days - Sunday, November 4th. A small amount of studying for the exit exams on Tuesday and Wednesday in a quiet house on a quiet suburb hill. That and some abstract doodling in my sketchbook to the sound of television… I’m getting stir crazy - craving food and friends.

To control my urges, I’ve been distracting myself with FB and texting people I never really contacted before. My craving for compatible companions has never been so powerful. I don’t have it all planned out. I just want more.

I’m still wearing the same thing I wore to sleep right now - which is the same outfit I put on yesterday morning. I haven’t washed my face or anything. Just drawing and listening to talk radio. I could do this for 8 more days - until the flight - but I don’t want to get fat (minded) and not be ready to hit the ground running when I get back on Minneapolis soil.. er.. snow.

I get back on Thursday and I think Fifth Element has an open mic around 5 or 6.. I could prepare a set to spit while I wait.

Yeah, if I don’t set some goals for myself I’ll become stagnant… I’m 21 now, I need to be more self-directed; projects, shows, work, social get-togethers etc. Elsewise… anyway, this week before I get home is a good time to make some plans, start working out and meditating. Because… I’m just masturbating out of boredom at this point.

I’d like to start stocking up some spirit energy and discipline again and leave my old habits in California. So I guess a shower would be a good start..

Maybe I’ll look for some jobs and gigs on craigslist today - for when I get to Minneapolis next week..

I wish I could go back to my cool, quiet nature but.. I think most people should no that I was never truly an introvert. I would have spoken more during my adolescence had I been given the affirmation any young art-head needs. No one ever taught me how to be outspoken - I had to teach myself.

So now that I’m an adult I have been contemplating if I’m going to bite my tongue. Hmm… they say its vain to make opinions about yourself but, I know I have a revolutionary’s heart and by that I feel I need to make a pact; a vow; a promise. Rorshach, one of my favorite characters from that one movie (I don’t know why I can’t remember its name right now) has the greatest line ever regarding this:

“Never compromise.. even in the face of Armageddon”

I think that’ll have to be my Mantra if I’m going to make it through this life through art and music. I don’t want to be another pessimistic pacifist artist. I want to contribute to a great movement of intellectual revolution for my generation and future children… don’t think I can do that with my tongue between my teeth.