soulless

thursday night: i was sitting in a 1/3 full bus at night, feeling oddly content to watch the goings-on of the fellow commuters. people were bantering with the bus driver, lugging packages, smiling. a scrawny, strung-out guy sat next to me. he started talking. asked me out for a drink. i smiled and said no. he asked about dinner. i declined. "you're stunning" he said. "you're like a goddess to me." i started to laugh. "do i know you from somewhere?" i asked. he suggested the rainbow gatherings. "that changed my life" he told me. he was creepy and i could smell alcohol, so i got off the bus, but not before telling him my name after he asked. i heard "brynn" behind me once i was on the sidewalk. he had gotten off too. we started talking, him about a foot away from my face, me unconsciously backing up until i was almost in the street. he was ranting- about loneliness, about his 'really good job' and his 'really nice place' and 'if we can't be lovers, we should at least be friends.' never did i feel threatened, just like i was being put on. people don't just seek me out of a crowd and tell me i'm beautiful- most people just want to bum a cigarette, or ask for change. i mentioned that to him when he said "well, you're still talking to me." "this is very bizarre" i replied. "this is one of those experiences that never has and will never happen again." something about the entire weird exchange, sadly, drew me in. i was almost hypnotized as to what socially untoward, sleazy, psuedo-hippie-bullshit thing he'd say next. and always, while all of this was transpiring, i couldn't help thinking "fuck, i must really be lonely."
after about 5 minutes of this sidewalk backing-up dance, i said i really did have to go. he asked for a hug. i gave him one. and we held onto each other for about 30 seconds. this overtly fucked up guy (how old was he? 20? 30?), i noticed, was tall, and his watery bloodshot eyes never left mine, and... apparently that was all i fucking needed. and i had nowhere to go, nowhere to be... but i'm glad i left when i did. and as i walked away, the peculiarity of what had just transpired not quite hitting me, i realized that it had really turned me on.

WHAT THE FUCK?

yesterday i got my tattoo redone, again. the falling leaves encircling the star on my right shoulder are darker now. when i left the studio it was dusk and rain was falling. summer is officially over here. i walked up the hill to s's house, where he was slothfully commandeering the porch, pipe in hand. we smoked, he grew even more apathetic, and we drove around aimlessly, not talking, until i said "this just isn't working tonight" and we parted ways in ballard. i walked for a long while, passing couples with arms entwined, relieved at being by myself.
marijuana tends to make me chatty and hyperactive- i want to go out and see new things, discuss inventions, listen to music, make out. it can also make me very irritated, because most people i smoke with just become slovenly and dull. when i was 19 i briefly saw a psychologist who asked me about my smoking habits. he specifically questioned if marijuana "made me horny." (I FUCKING HATE THAT TERM. 'HORNY' DESCRIBES AN ELK, OR A TOAD, OR A HONKING CAR.) i said yes, and he nodded smugly. "a small percentage of people with certain mood disorders have that reaction" he said. he never did explain, but i have always wondered.