Kanye ain't got nothin' on me

 

So I turned 28 at the beginning of the week. Some people remembered, others didn’t. Still others I didn’t give two shits if they did or not. On top of that, I also came out of hiding after much pushing from Richard Sanchez and Dr. Anne Estevis.

On the 24th, Dustin Sekula Memorial Library held a poetry reading/music night. The moment I walked in, I didn’t recognize anyone. The sheer panic of being in unknown territory (meaning around unknown people) was enough for me to concoct a get away plan. I did what any person of my mentality would. I went outside and think. And like the proverbial guidance that I so often long for, both Lady Mariposa and Richard Sanchez showed up. Both convinced me not to run and stay for the night. If you read my live tweets, you then know that I went from wanting nothing to do with the reading to being the MC for the night (don’t ask why, but I think it had to do something with the fact if I was going to feel comfortable around these people, I had to put myself out there like a whore without a pimp).

I was going to read ZITO, but I felt it was too long and thanks to the mixture of music and poetry, we were dragging on. Because I appointed myself master of this thing, it landed on my shoulders so I pretty much read a poem by Jason Walsh which later became the opening track to his EP (which you should totally buy). Along side with this, I read my short story, “12 Notes.”

I must’ve started writing “The Birthday Boy” fifteen times already – the apparent fifteenth time was earlier tonight. It’s funny because when I started it, I subtitled it “the story with multiple beginnings,” a shot at the face that several of my past posts held characters from the story.

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