Written sometime in June/July

I’ve been fighting the devils lately: apathy, depression, sleep, the anti-social, negative vibe. The station changes from Sigur Ros to Radiohead to Decemberists to Elliott Smith. It’s too bad the skies are not gray & dismal so that the world could be one with my emotions. My sister is in a similar transitional phase and she has kept the subtle smile and hint of motivation in my life. Everyone’s been here I know. But I haven’t been here before and the drought has never lasted this long. I know I’ll look back on this time with a cackle and nod, but right now I’m struggling. It’s not culture shock, just me feeling more lost than ever.

I’ve been back in the states 8 weeks now, but as far as being back in a preferable state of mind, I’d say I’m definitely not. I have 23 dollars in my bank account, no job, I’m butting heads with my parents, and I’m not enjoying the company of 90% of my friends.

I returned June 5th and immediately met my homie Mike who had just returned from a year in Brighton, England and China. He had a nice scruff going on and looked like he was still backpacking through Europe when I saw him in the Mission District. We grabbed a few beers, shared travel photos & stories, caught a terrible Giants game, and dug through some books stores on Haight Street.

That weekend, I headed with my folks down to Santa Barbara for my sister’s graduation. I’ve been quick to snap and fire words and my patience for incomptence seemed to have been completely doused during my first week back home…so I wasn’t really looking forward to the 5 hour drive. My headphones basically stayed glued to my head for the most part and I felt like a little kid hating a road trip with the rents.

My ability to interact has been at a lock. Whether meeting strangers or old friends, I’m feeling awkward. My mental struggle is strongly felt and people can easily tell that I’m fighting right now. Something doesn’t seem right I know. I know what you’re going through, yeah I know you do, or maybe you just think you do. I get myself off easy by blaming the crowd - These people are wack, our interests clash, they are superficial, they are in a different state/place from when I used to chill with them. That’s not right though I know. It’s me not them. My social capabilities are stagnant and I’m not interested in them, their happenings, or doings. “Mentally lost, socially inept, economically strapped” - that’s the trend that has to end.

My homie Alex showed me a damn good time in West Hollywood. I don’t know LA for shite and I had hopes of getting to know a few spots. He showed me the Berkeley/Hillcrest-esque side known as Los Feliz, near the area of Silverlake. There is this huge super cool espresso cafe called Bourgeois Pig - very dimly lit, comfortable velvet sofas, and abstract art. There are some exceptional restaurants, a magazine stand, and an excellent used bookstore (I picked up Anna Karenina & Steppenwolf and Alex grabbed Nausea by Sartre for just a few bucks each).

Julia came up on my second evening in LA and we saw Doves perform at the Wiltern. Doves are one of my favorite British bands - Very Coldplay-esque, chill but rockin’, and a good mix of electric & acoustic guitars, with a dash of electronic. I picked up their latest album “Some Cities” while I was in Bangalore (April). It immediately grabbed me, but I questioned if the tracks had listening longetivity. It’s very similar to their previous product, “The Last Broadcast” and some of the riffs sounds almost identical. Another drawback is that it is lyrically lacking and this a similar criticism that I have for Coldplay’s latest “X & Y.”

I checked out the Getty museum and I’m so happy I finally did. The tremendous view of The City of Angels, the fantastic Rembrandt exhibit, and the astounding architecture.

The best part of my trip had to have been the 8 hour drive home from San Diego back home to the Bay Area. The Interstate 5 (through central California) has a terrible reputation for being one of the most boring, mundane, & flat driving experiences possible. I’ve done the drive over a couple dozen times and my sentiments of “The Five” are no different, and that’s why I usually do the journey late night. But this time was different. I left around noon from Mission Hills and picked up a few things that I had come to retrieve - a yoga mat, some old poli sci books, and a few cds.

(This was written in a sporadic, scattered fashion. What else is new?)