this picture was taken by a stranger to me. i found it on flickr under the san diego tag photographed by someone with the username: HolySnappers.there are colors here, that's all. i am less angry about my headache and my dream and the beginning portion of this day.
downstairs i can hear two men grunting and talking as they move and lift some heavy furniture from the backside of a truck. new neighbors. and i really hope they aren't drunks or crack-pushers or racists or smokers or assholes. i hope they're decent people, though it doesn't sound like it.
my hands are dry again and i can't remember whether rob's birthday is the sixteenth or the nineteenth. i feel i should call but, at the same time, i'm not ready. my energy level feels like its at an all time low. tonight i'm picking ben and charles up at the airport. tomorrow r leaves again, after having only gotten back yesterday afternoon, he leaves again tomorrow and won't be back until the 25th again. i have to get these things straight in my mind. i don't know much about this coming and going. like i've said a million times before, i used to be the one that came and went. staying in a place for a year at most. i used to be the one making treks and pilgrimages here and there. i was the one with a passport before the age that i could actually speak. and now here i am, sedentary.
i was reading something earlier today that had in it a mild description of streets and histories of some parts of paris, france. i thought to myself, wouldn't it be neat to go. then i thought about what a horrible time my cousin says she had. i know we see things very differently. i know that. and i wouldn't necessarily be let down by the same things that made her face and her energy fall.
but then i thought, i can't bear it. i can't bear the fact that if i left i would have to face a multitude of faces turned with suspicion. they would see my american passport and i'd be done for.
and then, too, i think about the things that people like rob have to say about travel. i think about what i've often told people my age who only want a taste of a place. i've always said, "yes, you've been to italy and greece and all the places i wanted to go, you random university student, and you were smart because you did it through a university program. you were/are safe. but i say, live there! dare to live there! like hemmingway, like ertha kit, like thomas mann, like a million other people who were either exiled or chose to be there of their own volition." i've often said that, live there! i'll shout, raising a hand to the air or pounding it onto a table and making the coffee drinks jump or startling a passing mutt.
but what about it anyway? what of the desire to start over.. to never allow someone or something to pin a body down to its details. you know? details... and color... and the million other layers and lines that shape heaven and hell--two halves of the same face--i am surrounded.
13:53 - Wednesday, Apr. 13, 2005
Recent entries:
oday.html">the 3 month countdown begins - 05 May 2018
anothrburst.html">another burst - this used to be my playground
newlife.html">begin at the beginning. - 10 April 2008
moody.html">a blanket for a bad mood under the sun. - 25 March 2007
emilludwig.html">...kissing a fool... - 05 December 2006
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