NEVER TEAR US APART

apartment bathroom on 23rd & Guerrero, San Francisco, CA autumn 2008

It was 2:45 a.m. We were laying on the floor in the living room, encapsulated in blankets and deep meaning. We were talking about each others' identities and the sharp corners of our personalities. Our conversation was like mass: reverent, almost holy. 

Then that song came on the radio like it was a choir coming in on cue. I heard it come on from the very first note. I felt the minor chord shift into a depressingly progressive higher chord. The music marked my insides. I am currently living as body split in two. I am here now, but tomorrow I'll be gone. I'm hopeful and tense as I am loathesome and limp. So when THAT song came on the radio, I felt it. I felt it in my teeth, in my candied eyes, my sweaty-palmed hands, and my honeyed blood. My heart sank like a broken vessel. 

We both knew it - what the other was thinking. We were sharing an eye in that crack of an instant.  Our heads slipped inside the same frame and we saw it bright and heavy. We saw it together. It's a tight wind knowing exactly what the other is thinking. It's a hard light of brass tacks beaming into the holes in your mind-plate. The light particles peek in and it's like you've just seen six white suns. 

It was an honest moment. 

She said, "I don't even want to think about it right now." Neither did I. But the fact is that I hadn't FELT it until just then. In that moment in the living room with THAT song playing and our shared cell of cognizance, it hit me: I'm moving away. I'm going up north... "following my heart"... 

Whatever that means. I AM following my heart... in one direction... and then I'm completely neglecting it in the other. I am on the bullet train to God as I'm Autobahn blasting to the Antichrist. 

God damnit. I felt it. I felt the weight in my chest. i felt the weight in my chest of saying "goodbye". And I felt it in thinking of "nevermind". Change. Split. Serration.

As the reality of changing draws nearer to the dawn, the taste of all that I love and am leaving behind is turning bitter, sour, and sad. I realize I am leaving, but I hope it's not mistaken for adandonment. But that's when you know who will keep you and who you will keep. That's when you know it's real, when they let you go for the realm of never before. Because our sisterhood is sharp and strong, made of titanium and bolted with centuries of armies, it is certain as salt...they could never tear us apart.

i'm so lucky

keep on your mean side

god bless her.

Oh Benny / She's really keen

I’m hungover as shit/ 7 of us went to Becky’s last night, walked to Fitzgerald’s (bar) and the place was open but we were the only people there… it was like a private bar all to ourselves… so I DJed music from the jukebox all night, screamed Benny & The Jets at the top of my lungs with Becky, took a shot of whiskey after already having 5 beers. We all walked back to Becky’s at 1:15am, threw on our swimsuits, hopped in the jacuzzi. Cops came around 3 am 'cause we were really fucking loud.

It was great. I almost puked at work this morning after being 45 minutes late.

No dreams. 

London hates you

Captures the paradoxes that exist...

nothing/everything
the void/the divide

escapism/continuance

apathy/ love
pointlessness/total meaning

They expect you to keep going... even when they've just kicked dirt in your eyes and stolen your fortune.

Universe-ity

Today is the day I should be starting at the university. I should be sitting in a cramped desk among nameless strangers. I should be there with pensive eyes, new pens and a cup of coffee. I should have the world in a book and the manifestations of academic aspirations coming up through the voices of new professors. I should be making my mother proud. I should be making my father shut up. I should be following their rules, and I should be saturating myself in the standards of suburbia and all its beguiling expectations.

But I am not attending the university today and my mother is very disappointed. She is full of fear and doubt since I have decided against attending the university. My father is indifferent. He cares only for himself. No, it is my mother who is very disappointed. I am disappointing my mother.

I think I might be breaking her heart. I have decided to move away to a northern city. I am moving for the good of my own soul and yet, in turn, my mother’s soul is becoming destroyed .

But she cannot see what I see. She cannot taste my future as I can taste it here in my mouth.

To be continued…

photo credit

"I'm right here. Out of my head."

I watched Easy Rider last night. This scene is of the acid trip in the graveyeard. One of my favorite cinematographic scenes. 


"l want you to be beautiful.

l always wanted to be pretty."

_____________________________________________________
Wasn't Born to Follow - The Byrds

I`d rather go and journey
Where the diamond crests are glowin`
And run across the valley
Beneath the sacred mountain
And wander through the forest
Where the trees have leaves of prisms
And break the light in colours
That no one knows the names of

And when it`s time I`ll go and wait
Beside a legendary fountain
Until I see your form reflected
In its clear and jewelled waters

And if you think I`m ready
You may lead me to the castle
Where the rivers of our vision
Flow into one another

I will want to dive beneath
The white cascading waters

She may beg she may plead
She may argue with her logic
And mention all the things I lose
That really have no value

In the end she will surely know
I wasn`t born to follow

You Have All the Power

The Jam - Going Underground

there's a light in your eyes...

“How could I say goodbye?”

How am I supposed to go back to where I came from with everything that I’ve experienced here in this city? I’ve been exposed to the purest love, a tragically relentless feeling of inspiration, and an unclouded man with deep eyes. It feels wrong to laugh so far away from those eyes and that room where we shared a bed like a coffin with such  complete stares. I made him promise me to never stop looking at me that way. I need to get back to the city where life and love and happiness are free and clear and deeply right. Because leaving the city is wrong. Following my footsteps back to the place I came from is a crime. Leaving here is a crime. I feel I’ve been gutted to tears. I was a climber of heights and then my eyes collapsed, watching the peaks crumble down into the depression of the valleys of suburbia. I’m giving it all up, my life as I know it here in The Safe Nothing, to begin again – to begin living – to become devotedly aware of that sea and that sun and that sky in the eyes of the man who held me like a trembling flower. When I woke up this morning, I was in bed in the Moore Hotel. Room 517. I was lying awake to the morning while the man I love lay sleeping quietly still. Then he, noticing my quickening movements of consciousness, called me closer to him. And I knew I was home. I knew it was the only place where I was truly home. And now I’m on an airplane, looking out at the desperate horizon of the evening. It is the color of a red flame and burnt orange and it fades into the purest azure of blue. And I am writing this stupid fucking piece so that maybe I can feel something tragically beautiful in my frozen retreat back to suburbia - The Valley of misery and suffering. I feel it in my chest. I feel it in my bones. I felt alive and golden in room 517. Leaving that amorous glare was the pain and longing. It surfaces and it is like I’ve never known before. The city to which he belongs is the city to which I know I belong. I love myself as I love him, and I curse this unwanted withdrawal, this undesirable evacuation from the city. This flight is an act of hatred against the heart. 

------------------------------------------------

Look on down from the bridge
There's still fountains down there

Look on down from the bridge
It's still raining, up here

Everybody seems so far away from me
Everybody just wants to be free

Look away from the sky
It's no different when you're leaving home

I can't be the same thing to you now
I'm just gone, just gone
How could I say goodbye?
How could I say goodbye?
Goodbye

Maybe I'll just place my hands over you
And close my eyes real tight

There's a light in your eyes
And you know--yeah, you know

Look on down from the bridge
I'm still waiting for you

telling the dream to a stranger

TANK GIRL

THIS MOVIE RULES.

5 o'clock in the morning on a Sunday in July

[Baby get back. you been gone too long. get back]

I'm sick and tired of getting by

I've got to get gone

I can't stay here in this meaninglessness

I feel evil, like a dead-eyed dog

I'm tasting it now, all the blood

all the sweat and tears of this HERE IS NOWHERE

HERE IS NOWHERE

here is nowhere

here is nowhere

 existence is existing

but life is for living like the sun makes us circle around around

rotating and foraging for elements of creation

You make it harder

to exist here.

I think of you but you make it harder to exist here

among the black suburbans and the uneventful architecture

I'm living in a cultural void. I'm coming apart

I was losing a button right from the start.

My eyes have seen you...

And now i can't see through to anything straight through

except your soft army of blue. My pins and needles, these are hot daggers

hot dagger and I'm bleeding through

hot dagger and I'm bleeding for you now, bleeding for you now

and now I can't see through to anything but that place

I've got to get back to... in the kaleidoscope of time I was alive

at 5 o'clock in the morning on a Sunday in July. There I was alive

for the first time since i first saw the sun in my eyes,

I've got to get back to where the wild HORSES are running

just like the circles in my mind.

Baby... get back.

Soft Blue Army

I'm in love with something that I

cannot touch.

He is alive and breathing a thousand miles away from my eyes.

I can hear him breathing his soft blue army of words to me

I can feel how real the morning can be

When i wake up alone and dry

in a forest of fog and sand and miserable distance.

This longing has held me for 20 days

in a hard light, oh, hard life

Shake and shift through these safe fucking streets

I have a scar from crying out under my eye

I could kill this hell with all the weight of the Great Heathen Army

I will leave all this behind for something real

that I cannot touch.

I'll make sure to take my vitamin D.

Suicide City:
i can't help it.

even if it is just temporary madness,
i'm alive
and I feel real.

everybody just wants to be free.
and i can't punish myself
anymore
not here.
not here
in suburbia.

i found her there:
myself
i found her there
with far away eyes
and her finger on on the trigger.


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Last night, I said, "Love is a rush of blood to the head that leaves me wanting the guillotine."

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