some things last a long time

documentaries about mentally ill musicians and mentally ill girls in thrift stores

i ripped out the grey dying lavender bush from my planter outside my front door after being stubborn about it for weeks, but now i step out my outside and admire the green sprouts of new zinnias and forget-me-nots coming in. it took days of looking at something dead that made me sigh and made me sad until i did something about it. i guess you just really need to dig out the dead weeds.

sophie is leaving back for montreal soon and i am going to miss her. she is my friend with an everlasting social battery whom i need to inspire me, to politely veto my cancellation when im depressed and want to stay home and the friend who says, sorry but we are going to hangout and you’re going to enjoy it! respectfully. and i always do enjoy it.

last night i drove us to the playhouse in the town over for a free screening of “the devil and daniel johnston” and i think it might’ve been the best documentary i’ve ever seen. other than dig! about brian jonestown massacre, of course. the town i live in is drearily cloudy and cold despite it being august so i looked forward to the valley heat and we sat outside on a patio before the film. i got a glass of wine, her a beer, and we sat and talked and talked the way you do only with special girl friends. it is rare these days. sophie always is off somewhere doing something and always has a story to tell and manages to turn it into some kind of fascinating philosophical lesson.

we drove to the theater and saw a girl we knew while i was looking for parking, she was walking by and coming to see the movie alone. instantly sophie rolled down the window to shout to invite her to sit with us. sophie ordered a large popcorn for us to share. and then a hot dog, and a soda, and a box of junior mints. i love her for things like this. her actions, her decisions she makes so unabashedly are ones that i would agonize for too long over and i never seem to let myself enjoy life that much. the movie was fantastic and sad and funny and sophie kept taking out her journal in the theater to scribble down thoughts in the dark. there was a Q&A afterwards with the director and of course sophie raised her hand. i admire her. i had a great time.

i was meandering through a thrift store downtown this morning. i was antsy and it was sunday and the day was too sunny and pleasant to sit at home so i found myself on main street by 10 am with no real itinerary. i had hopes to maybe take myself out for breakfast but in reality, i knew i wouldn’t let myself be that indulgent. so i window shopped. in this thrift store i saw a girl and jokingly, in my head, thought her dress looked like a hospital gown. she had on slouched socks and rubber slides, and then i saw the wristband and realized that it was a hospital gown. all i could see was her long black hair and pale legs and white cotton gown and then she turned and she was about my age but her forearms were covered in bandages. and she was just perusing the shoe rack in this thrift store on a sunday morning. i couldn’t help but watch, and saw she was with another younger girl. then a woman came up to them and when i walked by a few minutes later, they were in a sweet embrace. her mom. she had her chin rested on her daughter’s head and a look on her face i felt too familiar with. i couldn’t imagine why they’d be in this store when it looked like she came directly from the hospital. but it made me look down at myself and think of my mom and i just a few years ago when i was also so unwell and i thought damn i’ve come far. i walked out. i didn’t take myself out to breakfast. i just went home.