2010-02-07 7:54 p.m.

This afternoon I was so very, very sad. I didn't have a particular reason. I just felt it.

Feelings don't always echo the reality of the situation. Everything in my life is pretty amazing. I just stood up for myself and left a job that was hurting my soul. I have a family that loves me. I have a fantastic partner that supports me, even if she is a million miles away. I am healthy, safe, and free. I have a passport that lets me travel anywhere I want. I'm even a permanent resident of Sweden, so I could live in the best society on the planet at any moment.

I live in Los Angeles. I have a convertible, and I can drive it. I'm healthy and thin. I can see. I know how to read. I can even almost read Swedish if I give myself enough time to look up every few words. There's money in my wallet. (Not a lot, but some. I know a girl that just got her refrigerator repossessed because she couldn't afford to pay the rental fee for it.)

I applied for a job and the employer asked me to apply for a second job there, as they thought there might be more than one position I would be good for. So I did. It might not seem like a big deal, but it feels huge to me, since right now it's so hard to find work. And, for so long I defined myself as not needing a job, and therefore being truly free. Now I find I have the freedom to change my mind about the way I define myself, and I can decide to turn my life around 180 degrees because it just might be better for me.

Some of my heroes respect me and want to be around me. I get to make art and do business with people I admire.

And, now I'm even going to Capri. The one in Italy. A few days ago I didn't even know where it was on a map. The only Capri I knew about was this shitty car called a Capri that I remember from when I was a kid. Oh, and there was this little fruit drink I used to love in elementary school called Capri Sun. Now I'm going to this mythical Capri place with some fantastically interesting person.

But, I'm feeling down, down, down.

It only started a few hours ago, I must admit. (And, it's gotten better since I sat down to write these words.) But, it's so funny how when I'm feeling sad it feels so bad and I can't even remember a time when I felt happy. Although, upon simple investigation, I felt quite happy at 4 PM today, which was three hours and forty minutes ago. I was at this shop called Galco's Soda Pop Stop. They sell hundreds of different kinds of sodas and I ran into my old friend Brandi in the parking lot. She was the first bona fide stranger I stayed with when I did my trip around the USA to visit readers of my blog. The sun was shining and my tummy was full of fizzy soda and my world seemed small and cozy yet infinite and wondrous at the same time.

Art imitates life. My feelings, however, seem to be a strange abstraction of actual life. Maybe more like modern art, and less like realism?

I decided that clearly the best medicine I could possibly take tonight was a strong dose of romantic comedy. So, I'm going to see some cheesy movie about a white, heterosexual, middle-class couple that overcomes some minor challenge. Then they find out that they love each other everyone smiles and they get to be in love or something. There were three movies that all pretty much fit the same description, so I just picked the longest one—the biggest dose I could find.

This is what I'm feeling right now. Almost four hours ago it was different. And, it will probably be different again in ten minutes when I crawl into bed for an hour to read some.

I'm writing here when I should be writing my new album or re-writing my book.

And, I feel better already.


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