December 2008
16 posts
sf international.
I remember when we took a nap inbetween flights,
on the floor of the San Francisco airport.
Your head on my arm,
mouth against my neck,
our backs on the thin grey carpet,
close to the windows.
falling apart.
and sometimes the things that hold this room together fall apart, and with them the walls fall apart, and you go to the corner of the room, where the walls used to meet and you ask yourself how you ever felt comfortable here, lying in this bed, playing this piano in the corner, picking your shirt out from the pile. you ask yourself how you ever were able to shower in the green tile bathroom and...
a return.
I visited San Sebastian while I was staying in Madrid. I stayed in a hostel alone and I remember deciding that it doesn’t fit to visit a place you love without the people you love. A return home is nothing without the people who make it home.
i have a beautiful friend who lives in new york.
Jessie: i think it sometimes surprises us to find out that we are ok. i mean I wonder if because you did have such strong feelings for her, the sudden feeling that maybe you’re ok by yourself seems to devalue whatever it was that meant so much to you before
because only people who are truly cold can come away from something like that feeling like nothing ever happened.
so when suddenly...
the lady behind the counter of bud's liquor in...
In an indistinguishable accent, when the cash register says it’ll be $5.79 for the three tall cans of Budweiser we’re trying to buy and we only hand her $5.50, saying sheepishly we may have to put one back, she simles softly.
“You can owe… You can owe.”
an exercise in replication.
There was the smell of loneliness in the air tonight. It was almost nothing.
What does loneliness smell like?
It smells like frozen glass tucked in the side of a broken barn.
It sounded like a coin dropping from an open pocket into darkness. In the corner of a wet room water drops onto the slick pavement.
Loneliness looked like fish through a glass, the inability to share anything more than a...
synedoche, new york
“… you’ve been a part of me forever, don’t you know that?
I breathe your name with every exhalation.”
seventy degrees in december.
I want to live somewhere with forests, where it snows starting in October.
Somewhere I could wear jackets up to eight months out of the year.
Where the trees change color and seasons are a reality.
I think that’d be nice.
