introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- shedding wendy in the folds of five o'cloc - twenty fifth of july, 2001-humidity rising "i hope you know. i hope you know the way i feel...i feel about you baby."~marianne faithful the comfort of brian's call has faded a bit since last night when it seemed like it would be all i needed to shake this sad contempt for miles and missing you. there are moments when i'm busy enough that i don't have time for conscious thought like today when i was at work paying the penance for thinking too much yesterday. and i liked the work. i liked my hands moving continuously and carefully and my mind following them like a child's eyes follow the end of a sparkler at dusk on the fourth of july. did i mention i can taste august in my mouth all metallic and yawning and wet...i can taste another year. and what have i accomplished in three hundred and some odd days? i never give new years much thought on the first of the calendar. its my birthday that makes me dwell these last few years. and last year was one of the more lonely. i mean...don't get me wrong...i have never expected much on my birthday and it was never that big a deal. but this year, i'm turning twenty three and those song lyrics, however lame a song, repeat in my head. "nobody likes you when you're twenty three." he promises me that he will. but what have i accomplished? i've quit the things i set out to do (school, winning the heart of a boy with whom i'll most likely never speak comfortably again, getting it together) in turn for an adventure; in turn for the fear that i will be thirty sooner than later with regrets for not giving myself a chance. and now, i've got all of these plans. lovely plans. i've got a state i never really considered to look forward to. i've got tennessee. i've got a man who has not taken the place of a glass hearted boy but instead, showed me what really loving is. i've got these wild aspirations and the glamour factor. i've got waffle house writings and jukebox conversations and so much adventure to look forward to. i keep using that word: adventure. in some sense, i have slowly shed my wendy-ways as much as peter has shed his boyhood charm for a more grown up look. in some sense, i'm growing up enough to realize that i don't want to just yet. in some sense, i'm finally finding myself, if thats what you want to call it. coming of age? well, its like i said: my birthday is next month. *deep cleansing breathes* and as always (lately), i've spent much time thinking and sorting out thoughts and T, you're always with me. i carry you in my thoughts and heart as much as i carry that smooth yellow stone in my pocket. never has one so touched my words and thoughts as you have. i know its been awhile since i've thought outside of my rambling essay-ish entries and its high time i post some sort of verse...here you go, my strolling catfish friends. (heh, i saw it on the news. god, i hate the news...covering demonstrations in italy and following up with a clip of film wasted on a fish slurping across some pavement. we have become so sedate.) right. but before i find some more geometry in tangent thoughts, the poem. -you know- never did i think it was going to be like this and when i said i'd come i didn't think past that weekend and a few more conversations because thats usually all the chance i ever get and i didn't think past that weekend and a few more conversations even as in love with what i knew of you as i was... and until you brought it up when we were rehashing like we tend to do, i'd forgotten i'd said so, forgotten i'd told you i loved you i'm never good at remembering all of the details but i try to get it essentially you know. and there was a 'dearest' in the heading like the notes he sent in the seventh grade that i scoffed at in my pathetic pretention. there was a 'dearest' in the heading and for once, i felt the meaning of the word in a passing vagueness. i am always the last to know, you know. all of these visits we've shared and all of these ways you've caught me up in your butterfly net... all of the ways you've spun me sticky in your beautiful perfect web, persistant like the spider in the door to your garage... all of these nights that have melted quietly into the dim light of morning... all of these conversations and state of the union dialogues leave me feeling like we've got something thick and established, a balance medley of you and me and i wonder at the length of forever because thats what i promised you and you promised me and i keep my promises. (mostly) this is one i am going to keep because i've messed up so many things before... i've messed up so many things, you know. and it all brought us down to one culminating moment running strangely upstream to the next... your hand in mine, my hand on your leg as we drove due south on sixty five the music blaring the sunroof shuddering at your speed limit velocity; yes, it all brought us to one more culminating moment of perfect high strung disbelief tripping over the stones of whether you are real or not jutting through the surface of our daydream existence... those daydreams that seem so real: you are a dream, you know. so our moments are so pure that they'll check us twice at the border of october when we're sitting on the steps again and can't believe its really happening... when we can't believe its from there til the last tomorrow... til we've breathed the last of dusk. i'm coming home, you know. but i just can't seem to shake the unsupressable numbness of temporary distances that flirt with lengths that are permanent and phone calls and curling up with the remnants of your warmth and scent in your hooded sweatshirt that matches your eyes deliciously... where you should be: next to me. i just can't seem to shake the longing that comes with miles the scurrying and figuring and grand totals for comfort and schedules that will bring me closer to you... closer to home. never did i think it was going to be like this and when i said i'd come i didn't think past a weekend and a few more conversations even as in love with what i knew of you as i was... and i know so much more now; there are still leagues to cover. i realize this in those moments that slip through my fingertips: the ones that i'm aware of but can't ever put a name to... never did i think it was going to be like this but you're like coming home and you're like all of my tomorrows and i am as in love with all i know of you and all of what i don't know, blindly as i was when i didn't know you, you know. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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