|porphyre‘s LiveJournal Slut Stats
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Today whilst wandering the forgotten realms of old disks, I came upon an old hyperlink poetry page I used to have. Strange to find again old soulpourings about people I haven’t seen in years.
Looking through these old files, I realize that all these precious insights, these understandings that kept me warm at night – they are nothing now, no matter how true they might have been. Frozen crystals of clarity that have been glazed over with a patina of disuse.
I’ve recently become obsessed with an old relationship I was in. I’ve been wondering if I remember it the way it was or has my mind twisted it somehow to romantisize what I now wish it was? It doesn’t help that it was one of those dances that you can’t pin down at the time. Can’t impale like a butterfly onto a board. The steps can’t be studied, nor the movements compared to other pieces of random grace. I remember wishing to stab the beauty and preserve it, if dead.
It’s the weather.
This oppresive mix of heat and sky and cloud.
I haven’t slept, it’s eleven now. I am taking your shirt with me when I go, so I will have something to carry with me.
I cut myself recreating the heart. I put a nail right through my thumb. Almost enough blood to write with, but not quite.
I think I would like to be your crawlspace. I want to be that. That place between. Between breath and breathing. Between thighs where you store old paintings and furniture nobody uses anymore. I want a chance to come back for you. I feel like today is the day that you and I first meet in another world of circumstance.
Taking little sugary pills to prevent contraception. Strange sometimes to think about. I feel now that the inside of my head is gray. Sometimes now, I want a child. Clocks ticking.
The noon alarm you set for me would not have gone off. The first day of spring again I suppose. You’d forgotten to remove the block from between the bells. No matter. I don’t believe I was meant to sleep today. I picture you in the sun, hair caught and played with by the wind coming off the water. There is green, though placing you seems difficult. I could put you anywhere. A flash of you climbing above me at the sandcliffs, wet, heavy sand caught clinging to the cuffs of your red jeans and filling your shoes. Laughter as you turn to help me and smiling as we both slip. It
can’t happen, could never happen. They’ve shored it up, my slippery cliff slope is gone, terraced out of existence, but I can still see you in the moonlight. Above me in a moment from years ago. A night with you that you likely spent sitting up, with no wisp of this inside you. Enjoying the fine summer night a million miles and half a city away. But I can see you(underlined). A night by the fire we never had.
Between spaces, darkness between stars, windowsills, I could take a memory and put you in it, between fantasy and reality. Your hand (want to add the word forever here) under a dark sky and a half waning moon.
Does anyone know where to get a sewing pattern for a tuxedo with tails?
For about two years now I’ve wanted to make one and it occurs to me that perhaps EGL shoppers may know.
Can anyone help me?
My package came yesterday! I was so delighted that I’m sure my bones were shining visible quicksilver with happiness.
They wanted me to pay duty. I was downcast. I was defeated. Ï have no money”, I said to the man. He was kind, and told me where to go when I had some. “Only a few blocks away”, he said. I watched him as he took my parcel away. Back to the dark confinement of his van. I could practically hear it scream.
Today! There is money coming. Names and numbers on a rectangle of paper, coming to save me. My knight in scarlet armour to my rescue.
What could be better than this?
My partner, Bill, and I have the top floor of the house for rent. Bill is a musician and sound designer for television, film, and theatre, so be warned – we have a studio in the basement, complete with drum kit, which can become loud. As the space is the top floor, this has not been a problem, but just thought I should let you know. *grins* Also – his tap dance troup comes over sporadically to practice.
It’s $400/month, plus 1/3 utilities. There are two rooms, both with built in bookshelves, a large yard with giant cherry trees, (and parking pads, if you’ve a vehicle), and lots of storage. It works out that we share kitchen, bathroom, & livingroom, but each have a room to ourselves.
There are shops nearby, mostly chinese food stores, a Value Village, and a mostly organic supermarket 10 min walk away.We are on the Langara bus route and are 20 min max to downtown by transit.We have pets, (cat + chinchilla), but sadly cannot accept any more furry creatures into the home, unless they’re the sort what live in tiny cages.
Um… I can’t think of what else to say, so I guess that’s my blurb. If you have any question PLEASE feel free to ask.
It seems to me that the more love there is between two people, the more damage they can inflict upon another….
It doesn’t seem right…
I’ve finally been granted the bliss that is my very own LJ. Wheee! This prolly means that I’ll be far more in contact with everyone. *grins* What a wonderful thought.
Anyhoo – I haven’t time to post beyond that trifling bland tidbit, but later this week perhaps, I will have time to emply imagination and wit.