tailgate the moon
It was Friday evening … come play for the first time I had just spent the past week learning how to become a kindergarten teacher. The kids were sweet the staff were nice. I was accountable because my friend took the same bus in the morning so I felt like going to work was quite okay because it was a type of social thing as well. Friday however was nice. Friday was to be the first time I would play play since the ex boyfriend who misunderstood me constantly because he could’nt understand English broke my hand because he was pushing me and I threatened to call the police. The same one who has my journals and for some reason insists on making it as difficult as possible and is holding them ransom with the speed freak who has the dog and the son watched by social services while I helped her rearrange her room again and again and again. But I was homeless in Germany without any of my supplements and I had also infact become a sort of weird psycho alcoholic who was scared to death of her boyfriend. The whole mess was an unraveling snowball that strangely always worked itself out. So yes now I had become a kindergarten teacher. A sleepy kindergarten teacher in fact, but never the less a new career change perhaps I hadn’t decided yet. So yes after I left early to go to immigration and get my stamp extension so that I could begin work and hopefully get a new passport soon, I finally made it back home then managed to feel prepared to use my hand with music for the first time since I left Bangkok the second time. Still don’t know how I could have possibly thought that this mismatch would fit together, but here I was with a functional thumb not the same, but yes now one centimetre shorter. Practice was excellent. I had not played in about six months so the amount of endorphins was such a beautiful rush and my body felt safe and comfortable remembering what I have grown to love as a beautiful gift beyond myself. As well as spending time working to others in music without words is another act I love. That was almost taken away from me by this same man child who when I spoke to him was most upset that my mother told him over the phone to leave me alone. To a man child with little education and a closed life I found out that this gang mentality described quite a lot. He really could not think any other way we had completely different logic and while his friends described him as complicated I found him immature shallow and frankly not very intelligent. That is not to say that I didn’t not care about him at all points. I however think I was trying to solve a redemption that was attached to a German DJ that I had followed out to Munich for the first time and this second painter could not really compare. Strangely enough however he really thought that I was worked up over him to such a degree I cannot really describe. He tried everything to hurt me to make me miserable to abuse me turning the whole story on its head. But he could not really ever hurt me to the same degree as others had in the past because I honestly did not love him.
So back to the music, it was very nice and chill and there as a person I hadn’t seen in a while that was nice we played, smoked a little and then went out for some beers. At first he seemed distant and told me that he had a friend staying with him, but then he asked me over and by tomorrow it was lets do some ecstasy and have sex all day. It was really amazing. I wish I could do that every day. I will go into more detail about the sex at a different time I just sometimes have to take a step back and examine the balance in my life. Thankfully back to work with the children has a good effect of putting things into perspective with my dull dumb ex who I am convinced has people type for him because he could not possibly be so stupid. And a friend I have never freaked out with who has a long distance girlfriend in some type of open relationship. Whose affairs come across as sexy in a strange way but I am fine with because at least he does not break people’s hands and then go parading across the room in a stumpy tattoo giggling like a child as he calls the cops and his mother. There is something seriously wrong with this individual. When I first arrived to back to Bangkok I also slept with another old friend who has a girlfriend as well and it’s quite strange. Being such good friends with these men who I care about but cannot see myself as their girlfriend. Maybe I am getting to the point where I am finding it hard to see