Abrir Los Ojos

"The angel went dragging himself about here and there like a stray dying man. They would drive him out of the bedroom with a broom and a moment later find him in the kitchen. He seemed to be in so many places at the same time that they grew to think that he'd been duplicated, that he was reproducing himself all through the house, and the exasperated and unhinged Elisenda shouted that it was awful living in that hell full of angels."

A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings, Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Read the full text at http://salvoblue.homestead.com/wings.html

Excuse the typos.

all mine?

show me how. I've lost track of things.

the things we do, the things we do. The people we become or want to become so as to hold on tightly with both hands.

And now for your listening pleasure...

This American Life: What We Do For Love
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/457/what-i-did-for-love

Birthday Cat

Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday to me.

approaching 30

some things I can remember about Adam:

He made me laugh.
He made everyone laugh.
He acted out his rendition of The Gay Werewolf.
He was a drunk driver.
He drove backwards through the intersection once to make Molly and me like him.
He liked hiking.
He liked adventures.
He held my hand.
He kissed me more than once.
He kissed lots of girls.
He liked music.
The last songs he played for me were Why Can't I Touch It and Golden Brown.
He liked jukeboxes.
He was rarely embarrassed, but was ashamed of mine and Nicole's karaoke version of Tiny Dancer.
He was good at pool.
He was excellent at foosball.
He was my foosball partner at a boring party once. We kicked ass.
He sat with me on a patio swing and told me he liked me.
He loved his friends. A lot.
His dad lived in motels when he was little. He didn't know what that meant. He thought he was on vacation because he got to swim in a pool.
He had a wolf tattoo on his shoulder.
He liked Blondie.
We rode bikes from Florida and Garfield to Harbor House Cafe on PCH at midnight when I was 18.
He liked alcohol.
He passed out on the bathroom floor once and mom thought he was a dead body. She couldn't fully open the door to see who it was. It scared me.
He took me to the bluffs in Huntington Beach during sunset. He said he was taking the long way home.
He gave Laurie and me a handful of one dollar bills and told us to go to the bar and wait for him. He never showed. He was meeting a girl. Turns out, all those dollar bills added up to $11. Joke. On. Us.
He had pretty hands. He called them feminine.
He snored when he slept.
He played Connect Four with my four-year-old sister and lost--every time.
He liked to flip open his leather wallet and pretend it was a phone. Wallet to ear, he would say, "Hello? Kutcher?"
He was 24.

So many other things I can't remember. Missing him always.

Floating on and up and over

And sometimes the days are warm and all the talking makes sense and sleeping comes easily. And that old wound starts to scab over and there is no need to pick at it, to undo what's been done. And consolation becomes a secret thing and is quiet and there is no need to tear out your eyelashes or thrash at your own skin because it feels good to just be.

because you said it best, Trick.

"Life, right now, is a whirlwind. Dreams of moving to the midwest paired with nights and hand stamps and walking three blocks to houses unknown and sharing stalls and teaching critical thinking on wednesdays and doubting my own critical thinking in the process. And my days are coupled with loneliness and people and people and people. There’s talk in all the corners. My bed is full of laughs. And despite it all, I think I’m succeeding, I must be succeeding. Had my tarot cards read on Sunday and she thinks it’s Chicago. And it very well could be, which frightens-excites me beyond belief. I make a lot of dinners with friends. There has been too much champagne. And sick. My god have I been sick! It wouldn’t be enough to say I’m tired. It wouldn’t be enough to say I need some sleep. If I stop now, I would be way too sad. I can’t decide if this is getting older or just more resisting."


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