scarborough

series i took driving past coastal scarborough at sunset.

picnic

quit kicking me under the table

woke up to rain this morning. got to go to work later.
been wanting to write but it's not coming.been too much alone in myself.need to stop it.
(if only everything didn't keep reminding me of the past...)

it is as though i am trying to skip ahead of my mere eighteen years and do everything all at once. then, i am politely kicked under the table and told to finish my dinner in silence. how can i? when all i want to do is swallow it all without chewing?

in truth, i would like things to be how they were before the fall. before i got hurt and someone left. but i don't want to lose what i have now. believe this, i do not want him back. i have said countless times before that i never want to see his face again. i just wish i did not have to count.

this has brought about underage thinking, during which i am crossed by thoughts of fatherhoods, yes/no suspicions, purgatory, unfinished conversations and
i promise i'll never leave you's.

advice to self: chew your life, girl. chew and don't rush.

is leaving all hopelessness aside

you know when there's a pile of clothing on the floor and they smell like someone who just left? and then you promise yourself you'll wash it all and that you'll do it right this time around.

someone you want to trust tells you not to trust him.
people are here and there and all over, once and twice and something else.
i am afraid to lose you, like i have lost before.

to make all of this just a bit messier, i am being reminded constantly of things i'd rather not remember. that is, things in the past that i should have forgotton, put behind me, packed away to live and let.

if only i was sure of where to go. if only i could know who is a friend and who cannot be trusted. one day when i find love i will know that the one who i love and loves me in return could never be false or tricky or dishonourable. i'll know that he will always hold the door, push me on swings, incense me to anger and then, furied passion
in a blink.

oh god, put it out! put it out! take this away from me, or better, take me away.
push this aside and bury it. bury me. set me free.
i close my eyes and shake my head in resistance.
i told you so, shut up and let it go.
don't come and closer.
deep breath.
inhale.exhale.
shut my ears, tears for the eyes. a breath in my throat. then i see stars. i begin to run and there is no question.
liberate me !

tuesdays is post day

let's say monday will be your post day and tuesday will be mine.
keeping to my word, i sent a letter off today and have the next one ready! i think i'm writing you too many letters and may have to send more than one this week. i should be more careful.
i am yours. you are mine.

whenever people tell me i am of no consequence, i cannot do it, i will not make it, i am not smart, fast, pretty or popular enough i think of you. i have not always apprecaiated you and i am sorry about that, because you see me when i feel pretty darn inconspicuous.

anyway, the point is I can feel damn lousy at times when things don't go my way. they've been going in an alternative direction for a while, it seems.or perhaps i'm just ungrateful or something, as my parents always say. maybe it's the unattainable fame, the crazed desire, the vanity of people and paralleled lack of self-worth. could also be the nothingness, the terrible pleasures of an incredible heaven.

in the words of garbage, the world is not enough.

took moira to see robben island today.

the island is desolate and barren. except for an overpopulation of feral rabbits there's not much life there. it's easy to see why it has historically been a place of banishment.

we took a tour of the maximum security prison, a bare and colourless resemblance of political incarceration and the deprivation of mouths.

despite its former use as a leper colony, lime quarry, a military base and a prison for both common-law and political criminals there were many who lived, studied and died on the island. some even managed to achieve university degrees during their time there. a khoi-san man is known to be the only successful escapee from the prison. the swim to the mainland is approximately seven hours and the water's cold.

the tour left us with a sense of constitution. i was a little bored at times, admittedly.

felt sea sick only after the boat trip. my legs had to get used to land.

take me to a place.

i want to get away from here. all i would like right now is peace. there's always a storm in my mind that i can't seem to navigate. it's here and there and all over.

lately i have been feeling alone in a crowded place, a familiar sensation. why are you all the same to me? where is your sense of self? gone with a whim, loss of pride, dignity, loss of oxygen, loss of morality, loss of virginity.
loss.
where am i? i am lost. i want to go home. i want something to believe in. i don't want to be in this fake place any more, where everything is about your brand choice of cigarette, your clothes, the way you talk, your photograph collections, your band or the band you follow...

i am me.
won't be anyone else.
not for you. not for anyone.
i won't let the world be too much with me.

THE world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; 10
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
william wordsworth 1806.


but i could be on the phone with you and not say anything at all, only to have you on the end of the line. that would bring me comfort.

fest.

tuesday morning.

came home smelling like an ashtray with a second hand smoker's cough. i was standing on things i could not see. by the end my shoes were scuffed and dirty. sat on the speaker. it was loud and smoky and there were people dancing with their drinks in the air. i cried in the car on the way home. i saw somebody i'd rather have not seen. i turned away and held my head high.
i couldn't take it anymore and left. i took a bath at one in the morning to get the tobacco traces off my clothes.
i wouldn't have accepted that drink if you had kept them coming all night. no ways. not a chance. and i got the hell outta there.

i'll have you know that i always wash my hair when i'm sad. it gets all the grime and queues and meaningless conversation out of me.
i was not into it and will not go back there in a hurry. they were all putting on a show for the next person. wanna be somebody you're not for somebody else? do it, but count me out. it was a damn cold night. there were no friends of mine in that place. i didn't really know them anyway. mere acquaintences or people in passing. i would not consider them friends.

today is the day I write max a letter, lick it and post it.
if only you were just down the road, like things used to be.
until i see you in december, make it good, and remember the eiffel tower.
love is more than a 'chemical process in the brain.'

you'll always be my lucky fish.
my 'til next time' man.

press conference for two.

there is a calender hanging on my wall.
each night i will cross off the day that has just passed. each day crossed off will bring me closer to you.
every tuesday i will seal off my letter with a lick and a kiss, stick on a stamp (posting/licking, you see) and send it off by airmail.

we'll have drinks and talk about things
any excuse to stay awake with you.

please be happy.
i will try as well.

you'll never know until it happens to you

in the life of a girl, young, green and straight out of school, a lot can happen in three months.

it's been something of a miracle,
a real big sight
something just crazy
when we both lost the fight.

to you, i am more than just 'baby.' Baby's when you're gonna leave her. baby's when you just wanna kiss her and then walk out on her. but this time it was different.

i know you're going to read this. just thought that you should know I cried when I said goodbye at the airport. wept in public. i don't usually do that! this is big! i'd say you're the biggest thing that's ever happened to me. bigger than a freddie mercury concert or a lick on the face or touching a famous person. i'm sorry i have been complicated. blame it on the fact that i am a girl! i'm sorry i have been difficult. you scare the crap out of me! i'm sorry i haven't always granted you. you were always there and i am thankful.
thank you for reading to me from peter pan when i was sick. and for bringing me juice. thank you for always coming round to call. thank you for the letters., mon poisson chanceux. i'll read them every night before i go to bed.
even though there's this distance (this wretched distance!) i know i am not alone. you are here. all i need to do is place my hand on my chest and ring up the phone and you'll be there.

i know you wanted to kiss behind the pillar. hahaha!
i like kissing you.
i'm pretty sure you knew how to kiss before. I'm glad I could teach you something anyway.
God, am i rambling? i can't even have a civil phone conversation without bawling into tears!

as long as there is ice cream in my freezer i know that you will be back to finish it with me.
until we meet again.

tu me manques.