'Night

I carefully watched the world rotate today, and will sleep outiside on the balcony, as a result. Good night, my loves.

Back

Boston June 2l; STL June 5th. Things have changed. You should know.

it was an inverted vortex of silence

..At dinner, the weather of the room was silent. Though quiet was the air, in the cages of their bodies, turbulance, tempestuous seas, wind picking up the leaves off the ground, the stirring of the clouds like a cauldron. Emmanuel picked at his green beans like a forlorn skipper while Nadia held her glass near her face with the concentration that captains fix upon lighthouses...

That is all you get!

Trip to the Clinic.....of my soul!!

Hi.

I'm pressing forward into this super intense Monday morning full of responsibilities and major productiveness. One part of that early morning requires me to grab my MRI results at the huge clinic in Granada. I wake up early to go return the rental car that we took the day prior on a day-long beach journey (COOL!). Then I walk down to the clinic because my knee is actually feeling like it can do it/I'm never exploring around this early and I'd damned better not get in a motorized vehicle and miss all the stuff of life twinkling outside. (yeah dudes; twinkles in the daytime). So I leave the clinic and decided that since I am relatively close to my favorite park in Granada, I must stop by.

Upon the first step into the grounds of the park, a smile splits open on my face. EVERYTHING HAD EXPLOSIVELY BLOOMED SINCE I LAST CAME!! Old men playing bochi with a quaint crowd of onlookers. There is canopy, and hedge, some places where I can't see past, smells of life. Damn you have no idea what it's like to live in a place without green (perhaps some of u do, actually). This is the 'payoff' for the charming, small cobblestone streets and tightly built neighborhoods: CONCRETION in UR VEINS. Terrible. "Well we have views of the mtns. Granada is so wonderfully placed. It's near so many pretty places". NEAR. I believe a city must be a partner to the natural world, must encorporate it into the structure..parks trees plants all over, not just in ONE PLACE GRANADA. ANyway, I do these rant things, don't I? Well, check: So I'm walking in this glorious park and it is cold, kind of dim, threats of rainy sky overhead, clouds and wind, and I turn a right, which puts me on this very long path. A long and straight path. There are these little cotton things floating around. I try to catch one. I look ahead of me. THE PATH IS LINED WITH COTTON, piled on the sides. It looks just like snow, and with the wind strong, crisp air, dire sky, it feels just like a beautiful winter incident. The long path, adorned, looks just like its out of a movie. I think I walked the entirity of the path with mouth agape. That is, until, I came to the rose garden, where each one had an entirely unique smell. The queen of hearts would have been rather mad at me, had she been there. My curiosity put me on par with Alice, and I wondered where she was. I miss all my Alices.

It was pretty. It made me write later that night. I find I have little time to write. How did this become so? Why are there so many things to take care of? How did it become that responsibilities attack me? This relationship needs to become healthier, because the dry responsibilities will always be there. But is it possible to make them fun? Make THEM fun? Of do we have to throw fake snow and rose gardens into our days to make it all good?

The Relevance of this,

I'd say, is quite spectacular.


Just Walking Around

What name do I have for you?
Certainly there is not name for you
In the sense that the stars have names
That somehow fit them. Just walking around,

An object of curiosity to some,
But you are too preoccupied
By the secret smudge in the back of your soul
To say much and wander around,

Smiling to yourself and others.
It gets to be kind of lonely
But at the same time off-putting.
Counterproductive, as you realize once again

That the longest way is the most efficient way,
The one that looped among islands, and
You always seemed to be traveling in a circle.
And now that the end is near

The segments of the trip swing open like an orange.
There is light in there and mystery and food.
Come see it.
Come not for me but it.
But if I am still there, grant that we may see each other.


A reccomendation for all you blog-readers out there. Read John Ashbery. Be changed.