I am back in austin, in my lonely lovely little city-house. I'll be in new york city in a few days. anthony, I miss you. I just smoked out with chance and thurston; my brain is bashed. bruised. thurston is so incredibly strange, everything he does confounds me. he puts on the perfect picture of normalcy, but right underneath the surface of his speckled skin is extreme abberancy.
I am sitting in the present moment.
last night jonathan, aaron, christopher (brother, 20) and I sat in the park, smoking, talking. afterwards christopher and I got into an explosive argument, but he doesn't want me writing about him, and so. I drove home through the velvet dark, pinpricks of stars leaking banana light onto the road. turns & twists. forks & fists. I stayed up to watch the sun pull its way around the planet. no one else is awake.
it is father's day -- I leave flowers on a grave. the severe sun left circles of sweat on my wrists. two and a half years ago my father died and I was 19 and I went to work like nothing happened. some asshole on the phone yelled at me and I snapped my pencil in half. once, a long time ago, in my father's airplane, he told me to take the wheel. 'I want you to drive,' he said.
'I don't know how to drive an airplane!' I shrieked, as he placed my hands on the wheel. the plane shuddered.
'you're wasting your time being afraid,' he said. he turns to dirt. I miss him. I miss what faith, ali, hope could have been without this ever-steady, sailing goodbye... jangling genes. jarring. these are the kids you left behind, you can't see it, your brain has dissolved, but all of us are blooming with the rich ruby blood of your body, we are beautiful: these are the messes you left behind:
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