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She actually liked the word "filthy".
It was so much better than "moist" but in the right contrast, "moist" can be just want you want when you are crackled dusted blistered and searingly dry.
Lately, she thought about being alone and how being alone all the time until lonely death was a trajectory that many were on with slight deviations. She hated the way the computer nowadays would always predict her next words or phrases. It made her feel so trite, yet like with all things - should you concentrate on that - there you would go.
So, she thought of the new. the past had been so haunting all the time.
for some reason, she always wants to tell you about the screenplay idea she had from beau''s house on 2nd street with the checks taped to the top of the ceiling (it was such a cool effect from a found box on the road/alley). The concept was people shooting the shit and talking casual like normal but carrying baggage that both tried to reverse emperor's new clothes it. She cries to remember now who she didn''t know she was then. She pauses to wipe away the moisture.
It felt like it was spring or summer. they were walking or parking or visiting. she was with the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. dangling prepositions were going to be the least of their worries.
In her memories, Wilmington is always Spring.
Yesterday, she had heard JR mention being a vampire and she was so shocked and relieved by this admission as she''d certainly thought she was not only the most damned one but the only one. What if they were all crypted vamps.
Instead of focusing on the azaleas and Spanish moss and flowing rivers and beer and daffodils and gardenias and wisteria and ocean tides, she focused on the now.
she is waiting in a swamp for an axe to fall from a fraying string from the odd ceiling. She paces and paces waiting for this axe to end it for her.
Two cats that she doesn''t feed nor own sit in her living room while she practices. Everyone starting their Moon Day - their work week. It was odd that Sun day wasn''t the start of the work day, yet so many things didn''t make sense in this wacadoodle world she vastly gave up.
She was drawn to communicating with him all the time. She would love to do so. She enjoyed being engaged to a worthy opponent / victim / partner / lover more than she enjoyed most things. The dance was the most fun of all.
Who dances forever needs to see a film called
The Red Shoes
Usustainable. That was what she was always tasked with - between the blisses of shared delight - forever the conundrum... did they call it dark mater now?
she had an annoying song in her head because the newest suitor was kind of bad. But there were so few suitors and the connection so tenuous and when she looked in the mirror or took snap photos of her raw face in the perfect muted morning light - all she saw were lines and demerits. She was unable to see the beauty yet. She wondered if he could.
It was fun to dream and to pretend - those are the first lyrics of the song/poem by kc of nirvana. Well, whatever, nevermind.
all suicides are exploded messages in Molotov cocktails. "I didn''t love you enough to stay and you never loved me enough to tell/show me". It''s a broken relationship and the clock is always a minute too late to stop the detonation.
ouch.
she often thought about the last second. she though of her mother and the loss. she thought of the solitude of death then of course the robotrip she''s had - god she forgot the name of it - macmillan oaks? - where the fire queen of wands told her that it was all "really beautiful like a firework or a snow globe or a microscope or the universe and she showed me all over the globe and there was such bliss and indescribable comfort and unity in knowing that it was all operating on love and that it was as meaningless as the endless games of hasbro brothers life that I played with myself and whomever would join me. I knew I would both return to not remembering any of this and be gifted with the knowledge that death was nothing to be afraid of because I would instantly be back in the soup of bliss with all of you."
Until then... time to check that email.
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