I'm feeling alittle overwhelmed. It's coming on hard and fast, too big to duck, too wide and formless to calculate a decent slice-through. It's afro-hatian dance class with a bad hangover. It's facing down a mean slate of traffic; four lanes oncoming, and not a beat to proj on to.

So I remember the beginning of this summer, taking a drive up 101 with my man Mark, talking about social prolematics, the little things that drive people crazy about each other. The golden fields rolling by on either side of us. Summer on the American road; strangers in a strange land. We had some good talk there in that pickup truck.

I don't even know why this memory is significant; too scattershot here writing on the commuter train to keep a thought on track. Too frazzed to push out any meaningful content.

Mark and Shannon -- his girlfriend of some seven years, lately fiance -- broke up a few months ago. A big shakup for the rest of us too; they were the template. This is public knowledge now so it's ok to write about, I think. I live in a certain fear of stepping on toes, a repressed and subliminal fear, one that my ego sometimes rebells against.

And so last weekend, Mark traveling down for the Halloween holiday, first time I'd seen him since August, and he showed up with these girls three in tow. Technically they showed up with him in tow, but the point is he was with one of them, and I didn't really know how to react. It made me tense and uncomfortable, because it was real friendly, the way they were, real reminiscent of the usual scene except one of the roles had been recast. And we were supposed to go on like nothing changed? Oh man. That brought out the unease, yeah.

And then the Saturday afternoon after, he happened by and we had to talk about it and I was high on tea and really let my mouth steal the show. It was a mistake because I was speaking partly (largely) out of frustration, not what you'd call constructive criticism. He'd kind of crapped up my movie, and I was pissed, fuck his situation. Selfish selfish selfish.

Can't stick two things together, can't carry a tune or hold a spot. Makes me want to beat on something for a time; focus with my fists. That's not a solution, but it's certainly a desire. I wish I were tired but instead I'm plain dog hungry.

It's a lot to try and handle, all this. Catch myself clenching my jaw a lot lately; bad suff. How are things? Things are essentially decent but I'm feeling buffetted by all the chaos, a surging tide of incompatible orders, and I want somebody to love, an out, even if temporary.

Take it seriously, but don't be fucking stogdy. Have a little fun and quick judging everyone.