What happened to all my big plans?

I woke up today in Boston. My alarm was annoying and my hand was on fire. I knew right away I would not be playing the subway today. So I spent my morning in a place between slumber and thought. There were all these voices growling at me like wild animals and I had this paranoid feeling that someone was coming to get me out of this coma like state I was in. It was very much like a hallucinogenic trip. When I came down from it I felt terrible. I can’t figure out what I am doing here and I can’t stop feeling this anxiety. It’s the hustle and bustle that some people need and live for. It gives them something to fight for and feel a part of. To me it is just distracting and disgusting. I miss Austin and I’m trying to think of ways to get back there as soon as possible. I have also learned that I can’t live in New York it is too overwhelming and chaotic which I thought I would love but it makes me feel ill. I can only take it in small doses in which case I feel inspired, true, and alive. I could perhaps live in Burlington. I feel at ease and liberated from my ego when I’m there. But I still miss Austin most of all. The question still lies, when do I leave Boston? Sooner or later?

Something strange is brewing inside me.

I woke up with a splash of sunlight on my face. The curtains were wide open serving as a better alarm than my cell phone. It was 9:24 AM five minutes before my phone was scheduled to blink and beep me into a startled confused morning. I had a text message from Pickles sent at 1 in the morning which must have been right after I fell asleep. He wanted me to call him and have a rehearsal. So all morning while I made a breakfast that consisted of porridge, coffee, and internet which hadn’t been working all week, I contemplated on whether I should go play the subway and not practice with Pickles or not play the subway and not make any money today. However as soon as I read the message I already decided I wasn’t going to play the subway because before I knew it I was sitting drinking coffee and practicing till 1 by myself until I called Pickles to find out that he in fact had to pedi-cab today.

So I spent most of the day practicing and reading “On the Road” by Kerouac in various coffee shops around my house. My ears would perk and my heartbeat would increase and I would sit and think about how much of a coffee addict I am now, ever since I decided not to set a limit for how much coffee is acceptable to consume in 24 hours. I was trying to decide whether it was worth it to spend my twenty dollar tip last night eating a fried haddock sandwich that shouldn’t have been fried with a couple of beers at a bar where they couldn’t even get the Bruin’s game on. After bumming around the whole day enjoying having free time I walked with Tom Bianchi down to the Toad where we had a show playing with Baker Thomas. We stopped for some coffee on the way. The show was rockin' and loud but surprisingly I could still be heard over the drums and electric guitar, though not well. Tom announced that it was my birthday which is what he does every show I play with him. So I got a couple free shots and was feeling pretty high by the end of the night. I walked back to the house with Tom and sat and visited with him till I’m guessing around 4 am. I could tell my roommate had some company with her and I was stoked for her but felt a little lonely at the same time.

I’m now currently sitting listening to The Shepherd’s Dog and drinking coffee. It’s a rainy fall day in Boston and I’m going to play the subway today in hopes to make any money at all. I can’t wait to see Raina next week and spend a whole week with her and Becca Loebe. Hurray! I might even get to see Corry Brannen in Jersey on Tuesday. I think I might try and sell my Punch Brothers ticket and play a show with Raina instead. Wish me luck in the subway today.