Watching a Netflix doc about Muslim punks. Not too bad. The glass of wine is nice reminding me of just how long it has been since I have smelled the sweat and felt the heat of a live show. I miss vinyl but I know that you just can't hold on to anything too tightly. Not people, not jobs, not even yourself. Eventually it all fades to the great beyond and these days I am questioning everything.I ate meat last week for the first time in 16 years. I have considered all things, ending a life, beginning a new one. Yes, being married and in love is a glorious thing but I feel at odds with society. I feel at odds with the system and yet blind allegiance makes the money. what would I do if I was poor? I mean really poor... really really fucking dirt on the street poor. i would do what anyone does... survive.  It can all go in a dust cloud. I have lived long enough to realize this. Work hard, play hard, be a weekend warrior... what else is there? Get the money, get the house, live long and old and content... In the end does the great understanding come? When we are face to face with our end do we see the truth? Does the end ever really come? You see I was raised on the time of the end. I was raised with that glorious prospect of the kingdom and then I had to accept it wasn't real. I have seen enough to know revolution is an illusion, things reset themselves to the status quo in a matter of years. Change the world? That's the talk of rainbows....

Birds of the desert

A person tends to wonder what longing really means. We are late-comers in terms of evolution but the landscape keeps changing. There are no boundaries for those who can fly but left on the side of the road is the windfall for vultures and the years will continue to pass. A therapist cannot understand why you don't want children. A 7% bonus merges on the back of the antfarm you live in and everyone is hungry. Netflix numbs, facebook numbs, instagram reminds you how pretty your enemies are. But facing the steady stream of the winds with my blue wings something tells me I will survive. It crashes, it crashes, it crashes, the images and memories, lost. Is there water in the desert?

time

I listened to 'Flesh and Blood' for the first time in about 3 years this morning. It was a glorious dawn as I waited for the bus; frigid crisp air kissing my cheeks and the intoxicating wash of midnight blue fading to the pale of early morning. I love Bryan Ferry's voice. I hadn't heard 'Oh, Yeah' in so long and I remembered how much I love his fluttery tenor.

I can't wait for Jackie to get home. Marriage does strange things to the passing of time. The day of the wedding was a rapid fire blur, fast as a shooting star we were kissing in the church and then drinking wine in the hotel room. Last night was the first night I have had to spend away from him since we got married and it feels as though I haven't laid eyes on him for a week.

Time passes in strange ways these days. Reading 'The Grapes of Wrath' at work made my breaks stretch out considerable but now that I have the blasted iPhone my break goes by in an instant. Is this the coil of technology? Is it speeding up time? Is marriage speeding up time?

All I want is sleep right now...

jukebox

you've got this new head filled up with smoke and i've got my veins all tangled close to those jukebox bars you frequent, the safest place to hide.

a long night spent with your most obvious weakness, you start shaking at the thought. you are everything i want, because you're everything i'm not...

and we lay together, just not too close.

how close is close enough?

i just want to break you down so badly.

in the worst way.

my inarticulate, store-bought, hangover hobby-kit it talks... and it says "you, oh, you are so cool." you're scissor-shaped across the bed.

you are red.

violent red.

you hollow out my hungry eyes.

you hollow out my hungry eyes...

just not too close...

how close?

how close is close enough...

-louis

Thursday, No Answers

Can you feel it in the dead of night?
I thought of releasing the thetans Friday night and felt a sense of horror. The request to let go of the demons haunted my mind. The webcast that drove me insane. "I can hear the ocean when I say your name."

End of May...

Losing a grip on the fog and the grip on the City skyline I forgot about my years in SF. Last weekend I was there again, basking in the gloriousness of music and City sounds. Cafe Du Nord has always been my favorite venue in San Francisco. Once a speakeasy in the 1920s, one descends a red-carpeted staircase to another world of opulent red walls and a deep mahogany bar. There was an amber warmth to the lighting and I felt a sense of homecoming. Everything seemed somehow smaller than it was in my imagination. It had been almost ten years since I was below the City street to see a band, and what a band to see!

The Ocean Blue have always held a place of nostalgic tenderness in my heart and seeing them once more after 12 years was truly sweet. Those fragile spider's web thick with dew-drop jewels of memories cling to my heart. For all its misty frailty, the memory pierces. It holds your heart. It warms your heart. Music that enchanted me as a younger girl entrances my mind and I feel a wholeness and a healing.

It is impossible to truly explain what home means, but San Francisco was such a place for many years. I saw not the times of loneliness and confusion. Or if I did, the loneliness and confusion took on a gleaming hue because feeling those things in your 20s is unlike any other time. As the plane drifted up I looked back through my window, touched my fingers to my lips and blew the City a kiss. I will always love you.

Back in the sun of Orange County, summer's easy embrace has opened her arms again. Our skin will be kissed by the gold of the sun. Our clothes slip off our skin with ease, muscles tighten and release in the thick, warm balm of night.

It has to be summer.

When I meet the blank canvas I am faced with questions. I am faced with wondering if I am full of ideas or full of breath. Jack is at work right now and the house has a sense of quiet I will notice until he comes again. I loved his lips this morning. I love his eyes. He is so perfect. I know this sounds cheesy but I don't care. Being in love is a wonderful thing. I am not in love in the manic drunk way that it was when we first met, not it is such a part of my being I feel normal again. Not that the manic drunk feeling doesn't come again when I see him, when I hear his voice. It is just astounding to me how one can actually get used to being happy as much as they had gotten used to being sad. That is what amazes me, how for years pain was my food and now joy is breath and life. I told Jack once that every time I am around him I feel like I am on vacation. It's so true. He is everything I could ever want. I wish I could make a proper tribute. There are no fights, nothing to disagree on. Why should love be about fighting? Why should love be about getting the last word? It's not. It's about opening your soul to another and trusting them with your everything. Knowing Jack loves me, that he has given me his heart, why would I ever want to win a fight or get the last word?

I am so excited that it has been 2 years since I met him and that we are on the verge of another summer together. I feels so good sitting here in his room, looking at his shoes and the picture he has of us taped to the inside door of his closet. I think of his soft and gentle voice, his laugh and silly sayings.  Love is so strong and real to me. Other things don't matter. Perceptions of self in unflattering lights are false illusions. They don't hold weight, they can't hold water. It is so difficult to break free from that false illusion I hold of myself, of feeling less than what others are. But I will be the master of contentment. I will be a warrior of light. Every day can be lived in bliss. Every day can be lived with so much light and so much warmth. I think of the happily ever after and I was googling pictures of ballerinas last night. I think that is how I want to look on my wedding day, like a springtime ballerina...

Joel will be moving soon and that is a point of transition I am facing soon. Things have fallen in place so much in these past two years I think I really am ready for it. I am ready to grow up after these seven years of healing. It is a wonderful thing to let go of being fragile and helpless. It is a great joy God has given me to be independent, to be strong and capable. I think I tend to sell myself short and think that somehow I can't get things done. I can see, though, how these past two years have been preparing me for what is to come. I just had to look back and let God enlighten me. I will always face times of doubt, when I think somehow I am not passing the test but that is when I need to continue to look at God. God gives me everything I need. I look at Jack's books and hats, his t-shirts hanging in the closet and I know he is all I ever did need.

This has been a great year of change. I lost my grandpa and have learned to reassess everything. I think I am finally free. It will continue to grow. The flower will still bloom, the years will still pass. I don't think I will age. I have let go of that thought. When the spirit is young we do not age. We are free from the heavy burdens of cynicism and doubt. Things can be as pure and lovely as they were when we were children. I feel a time of rebirth. It has to be the summer. It has to be summer...