porn, super porn
everything in the world
2004-08-11 | 1:43 p.m.

look at me being all sad! so sad!

that picture to the right is me on dxm for the first time, a happy dappled time camping, and I was in a tent as the sun rose and cast a daffodilish pall on everything, especially me. on dxm time stops for me. I've stood on saturn and looked out over the empty universe, and I've rewound and fastforwarded time at my discretion, waved at my parents waterskiing, disapeared into my father's grave. drugs are great, but anyway, the properties of chunky, fickle time irritate me. time seems so simple a concept and so well understood that I find it ridiculous that I cannot walk on it, from here to there, from past to future. instead I am hopelessly swept up in it. I write things here that once were really happening and now are forgotten fragments. I want to transcend everything in the world. LAST NIGHT I was 21, breathing and pulsing, my grapey entrails pultaceous and mashed with darvocet and alcohol and hash. and shaun and holly were there and we were talking and laughing and dancing, and what if I want to do it all over again, exactly in that way, at exactly that same time? time owns me and I fight it.

time. seven years ago I met holly for the first time. I am talking about her because she is an en in my life, one of those people that keeps oscillating in and out of my wavelength forever. we met, we were skittish colts, fourteen, mawkish and an effrontery of limbs and teeth and long hair. We were at a month-long music camp in florid, moist Florida; she's a violinist, I'm a pianist. I was drawn to her and liked her immediately when she introduced herself to me as Holly, and then turned around and introduced herself to someone else as Isabelle, the princess of Mexico. I used to, I usedto, I use dto, I used to think that all people could more or less get along if there weren't gaping ideological differences betwixt them. that is not true. some people just create commoving crackles of electricity that pull you in, for no reasonable reason, even if there are enormous differences, and I can't explain why. pheremones? McFate? WHO KNOWS. but it's always exciting. some people just hit it off, have chemistry, and love each other.

Holly and I were fast friends and inseparable and virtually indistinguishable from one another. We had the same voice and we loved to amuse one another and we swapped clothes and secrets. We spoke every day. Holly is the youngest of six kids, I'm the oldest of seven. I was happiest when my head was on her shoulder. And we loved each other well until we turned 18 and I ran away to Austin, and she went to Austin College. the electrical magic evaporated as we twisted apart from one another, our similarities slowly splitting. perhaps I found the differences shocking, subconsciously, as we had always been able to speak for one another and suddenly I did not know this person. and we didn't get along or ever talk until she moved to Austin for the summer to live with her sister and decided that she wanted to live with me instead. and we're friends again and all of a sudden her murky head, which a few years ago was glassy and limpid and a few months ago was dark and uninviting, is welcoming, is transparent, and we know each other all over again.

sometimes I'll be in the car, and I'll glance right or left, or I'll watch the brake lights of rows of cars linearly lift when the stoplight turns green, and I wonder if there is someone in the midst and crowding that is my matching puzzle piece, someone that I would just love. we're all isolated in this mechanical, modern world, we're all lonely, how can you meet someone? you just have to hope that fate makes you walk into each other, but somewhere out there is a best friend I haven't met yet, someone sad and spectacular, and I'm sad I'll never know them.

a voice, just listen.

157 versus nearly 300.

fragile as a

but just as deadly.

last entry next entry