We watched the sun rise up with a calm fury over the Atlantic ocean—wine, arms around one another, bundled against the cold, full of life and hope. The flames licked up out of the ocean like a mighty Phoenix, gentle waves breaking like timid children on the shores, seagulls coasting lazily on air currents looking for fish or garbage to snatch up and fight over. I leaned over and whispered gently into your unnaturally tiny ear, “I love you.”
When the sun fully cleared the horizon we gathered up our few things, dropped the empty bottle into the proper receptacle, it clanking jarringly into an empty 50-gallon oil drum that had become a garbage can, and we were off to the airport, into our cramped coach seats. We watched a shitty Jennifer Aniston movie with no sound, held hands, napped with heads on shoulders, cursed what they referred to as orange juice.
We raced the sun across the country, one small layover in Texas. I bought an issue of Harpers that I wouldn’t finish for 3 months, you bought some Sour Patch straws, and we arrived on the shores of the might Pacific at a little before dusk.
Another bottle of wine, basking in the warm evening heat, watching the revelers as they volleyed and laughed and walked and ran, tan skin against tan sand, pelicans coasting smoothly with calm determination just inches above the water, our arms around one another again, pleasantly buzzed on sale-priced wine.
The sun dropped lower, lower, and lower, turning the sky and ocean colors that have yet to be reproduced by humans, it sank into finality, waves crashing in white foam and brilliant sounds of hiss and crumble, and you leaned back and whispered into my average-sized ear, “I love you too.”
[6-26-2010]
10.11.10
27.6.10
Dreamscape #0rang3
I was at an elementary school, it was dark, but an early evening winter dark, around 5 or so. A bunch of little kids were leaving for the night. I was standing outside of one of the classroom doors that a pack 7-year olds were exiting. Their teacher followed the last one out and stood in the doorway, dressed in white pajama bottoms with muted stripes, a t-shirt, barefoot, with her hair pulled back. It was Julie Haggerty, the lead in the “Airplane!” movie.
The last child out, a small toe-headed boy with brown corduroy pants stopped right outside the door, turned to her, and held up one small index finger, skin so white and young as to be translucent.
“Why does my finger hurt, Ms. Haggerty?”
She gently took his hand and glanced at the finger. After a second, she let go of his hand, patted him lightly on the head and said, “Don’t worry. It’s probably just a poltergeist.”
She then turned, leaving the child looking horrified, and calmly walked back into the room, the door smoothly closing on well-maintained hydraulics. I noticed that the bottoms of her feet were clean and pure.
After that demonstration of levelheaded, wickedly inventive child torment, I feel head over heels in love with her…
And THAT is when I woke up from a powerful, all-consuming afternoon nap. And I still felt in love with her, a crush of epic proportions carried over from the dream and into the world, leaving me with a sudden sense of loss that took about 3 hours to fully dissipate.
3-19-2010
The last child out, a small toe-headed boy with brown corduroy pants stopped right outside the door, turned to her, and held up one small index finger, skin so white and young as to be translucent.
“Why does my finger hurt, Ms. Haggerty?”
She gently took his hand and glanced at the finger. After a second, she let go of his hand, patted him lightly on the head and said, “Don’t worry. It’s probably just a poltergeist.”
She then turned, leaving the child looking horrified, and calmly walked back into the room, the door smoothly closing on well-maintained hydraulics. I noticed that the bottoms of her feet were clean and pure.
After that demonstration of levelheaded, wickedly inventive child torment, I feel head over heels in love with her…
And THAT is when I woke up from a powerful, all-consuming afternoon nap. And I still felt in love with her, a crush of epic proportions carried over from the dream and into the world, leaving me with a sudden sense of loss that took about 3 hours to fully dissipate.
3-19-2010
5.3.10
Idiotic Journal Entry, #35.4
This morning I woke up at about 4 AM and felt a wet, lumpy mess under the covers.
I thought, "Wha?! Dammit! I shit the bed?! Fuck!"
That's not a good way to wake up--at any age, at any time, in any country.
After turning on the light, I was relieved to find that I had just rolled over on and crushed the kitten I was kitten-sitting for my friend L-.
Whew. Thank God I didn't shit the bed... again.
I thought, "Wha?! Dammit! I shit the bed?! Fuck!"
That's not a good way to wake up--at any age, at any time, in any country.
After turning on the light, I was relieved to find that I had just rolled over on and crushed the kitten I was kitten-sitting for my friend L-.
Whew. Thank God I didn't shit the bed... again.
4.3.10
Welcome back!
Sorry bitches, but I've been elsewhere, doing other things.
I have no excuses.
I've been on the Flickr since SOME people got lippy with all the graffiti pics I was posting. So if you liked them, there is a gang more of them. Go here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinkyroyale/
I've also, sporadically, started Yelping. If you are interested, go here:
http://www.yelp.com/user_details?userid=Ek0rLmWk8eb6HFm3jZCfLQ
And then there is this blog thing, which has been deserted. I haven't had a knack for words lately, on paper or in real life, so I've been mum. That's the best route. If you don't have anything to say, shut the hell up.
Finally, before I cut this short thing even shorter, this is to EVERYONE I KNOW, minus about 3 people who are on my side with it. You can all blow it, because NorCal knows what's up:
http://cbs13.com/local/hella.big.uc.2.1529825.html
OK, sorry for the silence, sorry to drop out. It's a hobby, I suppose. I hope all of you are smiling and happy and still just as beautiful as the last time I saw you, no matter how many years it has been.
I'll catch y'all later.
Loves,
P.R.
I have no excuses.
I've been on the Flickr since SOME people got lippy with all the graffiti pics I was posting. So if you liked them, there is a gang more of them. Go here:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/pinkyroyale/
I've also, sporadically, started Yelping. If you are interested, go here:
http://www.yelp.com/user_details?userid=Ek0rLmWk8eb6HFm3jZCfLQ
And then there is this blog thing, which has been deserted. I haven't had a knack for words lately, on paper or in real life, so I've been mum. That's the best route. If you don't have anything to say, shut the hell up.
Finally, before I cut this short thing even shorter, this is to EVERYONE I KNOW, minus about 3 people who are on my side with it. You can all blow it, because NorCal knows what's up:
http://cbs13.com/local/hella.big.uc.2.1529825.html
OK, sorry for the silence, sorry to drop out. It's a hobby, I suppose. I hope all of you are smiling and happy and still just as beautiful as the last time I saw you, no matter how many years it has been.
I'll catch y'all later.
Loves,
P.R.
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