Monday, March 29, 2010

The desert

"Insanity is being shit on, beat down, coasting through life on a miserable existence when you have a caged lion locked inside and the key to release it." -- "Wanted"
Of course, the only good answer to where do you want to live? is the answer you give when someone asks, if you had a million dollars, where would you live?, and, for me, that isn't New York, Washington DC, or Los Angeles. It's the desert.

Years ago, I went to visit Dixie Evans at Exotic World, now known as the Burlesque Hall of Fame, before it moved to Las Vegas, back when it was located on an old goat farm in Helendale on the edge of the Mojave Desert.

It was really an amazing place, and Dixie danced for me while a movie of her from decades ago played in black and white behind her, and I remember it like it was yesterday: the wind whipping up, and the tin foil star lined driveway, and the way when you looked into the distance, there was nothing but you and the long flat horizon line.

Increasingly, I need more nothing in my life. I'm tired of listening to people tell me what to do, tell me where to live, tell me why I should do what they think I should do. I don't understand why people continue to inform me how to do the things I've been doing for years, as if they know better. I'm reaching some kind of a breaking point, and, frankly, I'm ready for it. Because the rest? It's bullshit.

Change can't come soon enough.