You told me a joke. You repeated the joke, it was about groundhog's day. Maybe someone told it to you, as a way to mock me when you described how annoying it was that I still felt for you. The heel on my shoe was a little high, and I rolled down and to the right. I knew you were still speaking to me, but all I heard was your sound, and its echo.
|Chloe Sevigny smoking crack in BROWN BUNNY|
How can it be the same for one and rapid, constant, hysterical change, for the other. Always fluid, too fluid, the way an ice cube runs away from your drink when you tilt it.
Is the right way to run away or to pretend I never knew you. Should I grab Annie 1 or Annie 2...Is the way to love you again found by erasing myself?
|Matthew Modine's epic relapse; Annie on VHS... in THE BLACKOUT|
He says: 'Do you know how long ago it was I dumped you? It's been long enough'
I feel bad that I've loved you so long.
It reads back coy, but it is also true. Last week, I clapped the hardest when they said your name. I was so happy in that minute. I did that when things were bad. Even though you and your family stood with your backs turned to me as if i was a ghost.
You say you clap for me, when things are good. Do you feel the same way?
The last time you dumped me was actually less than a year than ago. Is that laughably long in the way a reasonable person measures time? I really don't know, it is why I ask. Every day I feel put upon, every time I cross a street with people pushing up behind me I imagine running into a bodega or restaurant; getting a glass bottle. seamlessly , like 'ch - ch - ch' rhythmically uniting three actions in one, the bottle lands in my hand (CH!) , I smash it over a bar /table (CH!), and the remaining jagged glass cuts open my wrists (CH!) Its dancey.
I go through stages where I do the next right things. Things change for me. Then they change back, then they change again , they return , but always differently. I don't know any Groundhog Day.
Nothing has a present or an afterwards.
I go to step meetings, meditation meetings, I spend time in Alanon, I start group therapy, I make new friends, I write, I work so very hard, I develop a course for the first time, and I start teaching repeatedly, I concentrate on dating new people. I inherit money. I get published for a paid writing job for the first time in my life. I sleep with new people, I have small relationships with new people. I hate sex with all of them because as soon as we connect I remember the only real connection I've loved that touched me in my life, and it is gone again. I buy a home.
Next I turn forty.
I know to be actualized is to be loving to then be loved, but it is hard to be not loved for many years. I lash out, and I doll up the ugliness inside. I am from another planet.
|Scar Jo. dolling up in UNDER THE SKIN|
Every year I try to see a new country. This year I will go to two, one late Summer and one in late Fall. My bird recently started saying "sweet baby." I do not have a best friend that lives in this country. My parents do not live close by, and I am not close with my sister. I wonder how many years it will take to spend all my money because I have no one to will it to. I tell myself I'll wait another 3 months, unless things get worse.
I do not have enough money yet to visit Antarctica.