listening to radiohead’s “the bends”. fished the bag full of old letters from the trunk of my car in search of savings bonds i was given. can’t find them. what i did find…a few amusing old letters written in the mid-80’s. and i look back and laugh. they always promise you’ll be able to at a time when everything seems to be falling apart…they say, “you’ll laugh at all of this in a few years…” and by golly…it’s true…you do. time is the great equalizer. perhaps it’s aging and the memory loss that comes with it that’s the great buffer to all of the painful crap you go through when you’re in your late teens – early 20’s.
going through old journals brings more of the same, except that i’m tempted to pencil in better advice to that young jane writing that shite if only, as proof that i’ve learned my lesson. i’ve grown up and out. i’ve become wiser with age. sometimes, though, i marvel at the keen insight. if i’d only had more confidence in myself that i was on the money when it came to certain situations. but i guess the past is the past is the past and belongs in the past. nicely tucked, or haphazardly stuffed in an old airline bag, with letters, cards and postcards from friends, family, and past loves. i’ve burned many a picture… i don’t feel the need to do that anymore. i’ll just zip the bag shut and throw it back in the trunk of my car.
looking forward to watching the winter olympics. i don’t know why but everytime i see a sports program like the Ironman competition…it always brings tears to my eyes. yes. it’s corny. but i can’t help but feel immensely proud of perfect strangers as they put themselves, mind and body, through hell to get to a finish line. some do it in record time, some take hours and hours. here’s to YOU, the last few who limp and hobble across the finish line (fran raises her tea mug to toast because she’s got no booze at this point)you are reaching your potential, your best self.
i shall hope to run the NYC marathon for 2006.
because i can
i have a score to settle with the 5 boroughs, a couple of bridges, and that dang last few miles in that wonderful park.
you’ve been living underground, eating from a can…U2
i’m drunk. on two glasses of wine. okay. two and a half. alright. three…
numb. but it really isn’t. you just don’t care anymore. but it’s still there. and you look for inspiration from the floating clouds, from the V shaped birds flying overhead….from red tail lights on their way home, stuck in a traffic jam… you want to kiss the world, then slap its smart-ass face. you want to dial his number, but fall asleep instead.
what do you do with all of this heavy love? you drown in it. breathe it. dream about it. hug it tightly in your sleep. you refuse it. ignore it. resolve that it’ll never go away…
and in a fish eye i see the sky. i see my birth and death. i watch your love swim around red blood vessels. never drowning. never going away…i dream a spark, see the light, living in the dark.
m, i’ve hated you since for ever. and will love you way past that. unconditionally. no strings. no nothing. pure and intoxicating. way past the best. farther than pluto, hotter than mercury, softer than stars…