Monday, August 24, 2009


1.  Fly.  Like, with my own will, and arms, and body.  

2.  Star in a movie with Daniel Day-Lewis, because I've earned that position.

3.  Walk with Russell Crowe, at the end of "State of Play", with the lights turned off towards the back of that huge office of their newspaper room.

4.  Own the house on Kelton Court, and shower in that bathroom, overlooking the bay, every morning of my life.

5.  Diego, running on a beach, into the sunset of southern California, while "Zephyr Song" is playing.

6.  Save people.  In a way that no one else could save them.

7.  Him to be alive, and happy, and healthy.  

8.  Write a Great Book.  

9.  Write the next big text in philosophy and political philosophy.


9 1/2


1.  It was the best I've ever felt, as a woman, and as a creative, sexual, whole person.

2.  It caused in me an incredible desire for both wealth and the ability to provide, for both myself, and others, in all the ways I'd always thought were wrong, or indecent, or immoral.  

2.5  I don't know whether it was the hot dogs, the wine, or Ayn Rand.  But let's just say it was all three, and to this effective trifecta, I say, "Amen." 

3.  I wonder about the lifestyle it would provide.  Is it something you could inherently enjoy?  Would it require a total numbing of yourself, your natural, organic reactions?  Or, is it something better than that?  Something inherently better than we could ever think it could be?  I'm so curious to find out.  

4.  Nearly all day, it was as if I was walking around in a dream.  It's been easily one of the best days ever, if not just in recent memory.

5.  It's amazing what you can do when you walk around with desire in your head.   A-maze-ing.

6.  It's something others can sense, if they could be a recipient.  And it's amazing to be able to hold, in your head, ever so lightly but truthfully, if for the moment, the "fact" that they could be the recipient.  

7.  I feel that I've been blessed with a small ray of knowledge that has illuminated the entire world for me.

8.  If this is what it is to have that envy, then call me a sinner.

9.  Baby, I'm drinking that wine you gave me, and the great thing?  It's starting all over again.  Bless you and your knowledge of good wine.  Bless you.  It's shaping up to be a great night.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

18.5


1.  She has the most perfect smell.  I'm not even sure my own kids could smell this perfect.  I realize this is a weird statement, but hey, at least I know my limits.  

2.  After getting this dog, I'm not sure I could handle the intensity of having an actual child, and all the fear, love, emotion, and metaphysics that go with that.  Dogs might be the cap on my ass.

3.  She reminds me of myself.  We even sleep the same way.

4.  It's a lot of pressure.

5.  His very presence has a soothing, almost an ordering effect.  

5.5.  When we have a deeper, more intimate conversation, I feel relieved afterwards, like a pressure has been alleviated; a knowledge I'd been seeking has been obtained.  Until that happens, I actually feel frustrated.  It's subtle, but it's there.  

6.  He comes with advice, insight, revelation, and an instruction manual about himself.  This is even better than I could have imagined, even though it's not easy.  It's like a continuous test that I feel well-equipped to take.   

7.  I'd been at a point recently at which I would say I "arrived" at my life. 

8.  I embraced exactly where I am, and what I do.  But I stopped searching.  I stopped writing, stopped wondering, stopped painting.   The hunger went away.  The desire went away.  Is that a good thing?  Buddhists say yes.  I say maybe.

9.  I never realized the delight inherent in the search.  I also never realized contentment could feel so empty.

10.  I have to constantly remind myself of how to think of you:  as a treasure.  As I would think of a friend.  As a gift to be held lightly in the hands, not with a clenched fist.  

11.  And yet...there is a deep path behind you.  The mystery and beauty promised on that path are something I cannot have with a friend.  

12.  It's pretty simple: if you have good thoughts about someone, you're going to love them.  If you indulge in negative thoughts about them, you're going to want to get away from them.  In this sense, you can absolutely choose whom you love and whom you don't.   

13.  I need to nap.  A lot.  Since she arrived.  I didn't think adoration and love could be so exhausting.  Again: not helping the whole kids situation.

14.  I think of you now, and I'm not sad.  The emotion is not right under the veil.  I don't know if I've put it away permanently, or if I've realized you and I could never have been, anyway.  But either way, I've remembered my life.     

15. I miss the agony of grieving you.  It was a very, very close, and very pure embrace.    

16.  He's not perfect, but he's determined to be better.  I keep thinking, when I witness him, "This is a man".   

17.  Last night, when we first got her, I was playing with her and kissing her and Diego so much, that I actually had to pull dog hair out of my mouth.  I imagined coughing up a hair-ball this morning.

18.  So, strangest thing: I coughed up a hair-ball this morning...

Monday, August 10, 2009

322


you slide back
and yet grab handfuls 
out of the air, 
arranging them with your grasp
and they will travel thru your hand,
up your arm, 
tingling in your throat,
and as you brush your lips
against my cheek and my ear,
the words will sprinkle out,
and be caught forever in my hair.


Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Eleven


1.  Peanut butter makes me happy.

2.  It's hard not to see yourself reflected in the world, or with your friends, but especially when you fall for someone.  So many hopes get placed in such a tiny basket.  But it makes me feel worse to think of being apathetic and just going with the first clean, money-making individual you meet.  There has to be a sense of magic, a sense of eternity.  And if you can't see the future in your lover, then you're going to hate yourself in the morning.  

3.  When I think of love, it makes me sad.  

4.  I really hope to get to a point at which I move past this.

5.  I've desired much, and I've desired little.  Desiring much is much, much better.  

6.  I was more creative, and in a greater variety of ways, when I was little.  I wonder why the fuck this ever goes away.

7.  I wish I lived with my little brother and sister at my dad's house, with him and my step-mom.  I feel I got shorted on the little sibling thing but now that I have it, it's not enough to just visit.  I want to feed them breakfast.  Like, every day.

8.  I fall for someone, and I wish that they were a certain way, and am disappointed.  It keeps pulling me back to this: that it's better to be alone, to not compromise myself to anyone, to know that I can swagger down the street and kiss whomever I want, whenever I want, and not have to answer to anyone.  

9.  I used to tell people close to me "Don't express too much to me."  Now I know how painful that is, especially when you're just trying to tell someone you love them, in whatever way you can.  Funny, how it hurts you, to not be able to give.  I never thought it could be that way.

10.  If it's a feeling, then I always get it wrong.  Maybe it's totally rational.  Maybe it's as methodical as perusing a job application.  And if you get along with them well, and maybe if they make you laugh, too, then you just go with it.  

11.  I'm still undecided.

Shell


It's a shield.   It's a shell to raise, to cower behind.  It bears a spiny surface and it protects something jelly-soft on the underside.

Do I take it as it is?  Do I respect and address and react to the surface push outwards?  The hard, spiky surface that keeps me at bay?  

Or do I address the frightened underbelly that has to lie beneath?  

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Seal


Your flaws make me perfect.

I dreamt of your flaws, and of being the person they give me the chance to be.  

Pull


I need him.  

I need to express things to him, constantly.  

If mine is his outlet, then he is my outlet.  I need to plug in; i need to discharge, I need to see a reaction.  I need to know that something in him is being affected; that I can change something in him.  That I can cause a change in him.  I need to see this, and more than anything, I need to do this.  

I'm writhing, and twitching, to express myself to him.  

Where are you, now that I need you?  Now that I need only you?   I moan and I ache and I twist in anguish for you, over you, at the thought of you, at your voice.  

I need you.  My very heart is for you, it beats against my breast and wants to leap into yours.  It reads you, like a shark.  It knows you are alive, that you're in my world, and from 40 miles away, my heart desires only to move near you.  It knows you are in the water and it causes me to want to swim closer to you, to hone in, to taste you, to just bite into you and shake my head and my jaws and know you are locked in between my teeth, unable to move.