rooms

You've been trying to catch the calendar again, haven't you? I see it in your smirk. It's a lie, don't buy it. I know you cleared this space with your own two hands, both lobes engaged in an argument about how we got here, but don't waste your precious time.

I know you, you try too hard to find the right words and put them in the right order on the right page so they'll be rightly read, I know your agonizing attention to detail, I know your wasted hours and the cramps in your back and the way you strain to listen for your own voice and fall sleep from long hours of looking. And I also know she comes for you in the dark, sees you sleeping, and mercifully leaves you to your feverdreams. You're not ready to see her, and when you are you will.

--

I am uncharacteristically ready for fall. My birthday in the beginning of August usually marks the beginning of the end of summer, maybe that's why I've always had such ambivalent feelings about it. But this year, I am so fucking ready for the leaves to turn, the sun to go down a little sooner, less need for air conditioning in public places. I'm sure this past winter that didn't really feel like a winter is spurring my need for seasonal transcendence. I spent the summer upgrading my character (I'm pretty sure there's an Of Montreal song about it) and now I'm ready to try her out. I got a car, a better apartment, I quit smoking, and started grad school. As usual, the roster has been altered-- drop outs, marriages, reproduction, death (not related or necessarily in that order). I've been reading Hell's Angels by Thompson for the past couple of weeks, so his voice is in my head. Picked up a book on Cyberpunks by "Leary" (published 2008? whatever, most of it is in his particular vernacular, if not legitimate it's a worthy tribute).

I spent my birthday swimming in a lake on hallucinogens in the beautiful sunshine. I went to Wickerman (local Burn event). I finished a few paintings. I accumulated evidence, both tangible and invisible, that I am indeed real. I'm still here. I'm still coping, but I'm glad to be alive. My continued presence in this place is a victory no matter what anyone expects. I am starstruck and lucky and grateful, and real.