september
97 
10 11
13 14 16 17
18
october has arrived and where am i?
little poots is leaving soon and this box must be tied up
and
sent on it's way. wave by-bye. see you again soon...perhaps
mid to end week. peace.
september SATURDAY (27)
more flies in my butter reading this morning's inbox.
reading the emotions through the words now, and
there are plenty in the air. we're talking reciprocity now.
long hugs; do they represent every missed embrace
or merely the desire to never let go? they speak to me,
long parables and phrases...unspeakable words and
feelings indescribable yet entirely understood. to hug.
to hold onto another human being. a sign of affection.
of goodbye. of until next time. adios.
what would i tell them. what could i? what each of
them
means to me, the smiles that light my life. the laughter
and the kind words, the support, friendship and the just
being them. i'm watching yesterday now...as it always
will be, yesterday. slip away with grace, poots.
take your mugs and your pictures off the wall.
shhh. no one will see you leave.
oops. thanks. thank you. all the best. bye.
throw it in the box, spin around because
this isn't real anyway. you're not sure
where you are. are your feet on the ground?
who are these people, milling.
A wanted to miss you, you know why.
you weren't thrilled at the prospect of telling
him goodbye either. but there he is, in front
of you now. facing you but both of you not looking.
silence. silence. silence.
a little poots sigh now as the girl in the mirror
stares upward and out the small basement window.
you've done the tears thing, you've bitten bullets.
even wet-faced, you can run with it.
run, poots, run.
you build strong walls and they'll protect you.
taken' em down ain't easy, but it'll give you
strength to build more. and think how strong
they'll be.
blow me a kiss
i'll remember your face;
teach me of friendship
our hearts will embrace.
until we meet again.
until we meet again.
september THURSDAY!
thursday i can do. monday tuesday wedensday were too
far, but thursday is a bit more realistic, closer to saturday
which is close to sunday. sunday is a nice day on which to
leave, has a finality yet a sense of renewal as well. pleased.
yes, yesterday groggy to say the least, yucky and achey.
viruses crawling through the core and used much of my
energy just attending lunch, chit-chatting, forwarding my
new address. a long process this has been, but i am glad
for it, now. the circularity of the event has allowed for real
consideration. real appreciation. real realization. those are
good things.
gray day, rain too.
i bite my lip and look for you
the lives we lead, now so apart
as contrast gets
unlike the start
your sun in this my life
your sleeping hands
your trembling heart;
we know no less
than from the start
and now know more
of what is blue.
so it goes. we open up. they come. we decide when it's
time to lay back.
then they still come because they don't understand. their needs are the
greater. we learn. we watch. we think. then, the really smart ones learn
to keep the balance. not to retreat, because that is what we don't want.
retreat makes no sense. we learn to cope, to understand and to play by
their rules, or playing is pointless. to learn a balance, where you can
speak freely and openly, without causing harm or hurt. this is the key.
humour, perhaps.
september wednessay
feeling sickly tired and virus-laden
september tuesday
"i'm gonna clear my head;
i'm gonna drink that sun
the saddest sight my eyes can see
is that big ball of orange slippin slowly down the trees;
sittin' in a broken circle while you rest upon my knees
this perfect moment'll soon be leavin me.
suzanne calls from boston, the coffee's hot the corn is high
and that same sun that warms your heart will suck the gutter dry
with everything that's possible enough to keep you cryin'
and keep this whole world spinnin with a twinkle in it's eye;
GET OUT THE MAP
GET OUT THE mAP
and lay your finger anywhere down
we'll leave the figurin' to those we pass
on the way outta town
don't drink the water
there seems to be somethin' ailin' everyone
i'm gonna clear my head
i'm gonna drink that sun
i'm gonna love you good and strong
while our love is good and young.
Indigo girls
oooo it's so close but only TUESDAY.
clammy hands staring at the overcast sky.
the horoscope says i need excercise and it's right.
soon, she says, soon. 32 degrees hot down there.
a bit hot for tennis.
a n x i o u s a n x i o u s a n x i o u s
mr. stern babbling in the background, he sounds like ralf
lockwood.
after a while it just becomes talking like any other talking. the hype
will go away. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
fully infused, you noticed? oh yes. in more ways than one. lunch
today, yesterday, tomorrow.
september monday
yesterday was the last full sunday before i leave.
and today, the last monday. there's plenty buzzing
through my little kidney. even before my eyes open
i'm there and back. hired and fired, pro-and-de- moted,
bored and thrilled, having and missing, loving and leaving.
but most importantly; and what makes me sane, is the fact
that i look only ahead. i'll never get there by more than only
glancing back. and even though this adventure was the result
of much decision, much anticipation, much motivation, struggle
and difficulty; i'm already planning the next step. and i'll get there,
too.
that little smug smile creeps across my cold-sorian
face;
the one that makes dimples, i think, and a moment of relative
peace swipes my facade.
...any basement can be my oyster.
fully infused, now.
mornin' babs, thinkin' boutcha.
september sunday
maybe i do really write for me. i certainly believe
that i could write
what more people would read if i wanted to. also, i read what i've
written. over and over, i read it. i like to watch myself. so there.
will mention that i've not heard back from c.a.w. and
am hoping
that my last message arrived safe and sound, because i really
meant it. i've never felt this way about her feelings before, and
that really means alot to me. there's a song i want her to listen
to, a song that anyone passionate should listen to, and it's by
Jewel. it's on pieces of you but i don't know the title because i
received it as a special gift, and what a gift it's become. i live
eat and breath that tape, from Chicano city park to Adrian
coming home, what a pile of emotions it's brought to me at
this exciting time in my life. the song starts "please
don't love
me like that, it makes ... please don't kiss me like that, it only
makes me crave...and please don't look at me like that...please
don't bring me flowers, they only whisper the sweet words ..."
when i hear it i feel the passion, the passion that you are sharing
3,000 miles away and the passion that we feel, 3,000 miles apart.
and while i'm talking about the tape, i should mention
a few other lines which make my heart feel so full,
-the understanding of which i am so thankful for...
"s i t t i n' i n a b r o k e n c i r c l
e as you rest upon
my knees, this perfect moment'll soon be leavin' me"
remembering back to some perfect moments....
and of course in tribute to brownie points in heaven...
"with every lesson learned a line upon your
beautiful face"
a cold day, the first of the season. finally managed
to
exert enough energy to throw together a garage sale.
i think i froze my innards, i'll let you know tomorrow if
i've come down with pneumonia. and a farewell dinner
last evening, an unusual mix but an entirely compatible
one too. laughter and some deep connections bringing
us together and making at least myself feel very alive,
very indeed. some hopping wine and a scrumptious
meal to boot. delicious blueberries.
and then a baby shower-
talk of things real-
like breast feeding and bathtime,
watching, waiting.
midway on the java-infusion, after a long and much
needed sleep.
i will try to avoid remembering my dreams, because i woke with a
sadness. the caffeine will chase that away, and bring clarity, function.
i am pulling you closer now-trying to let you see the real me, the warmth.
propped on a sofa-bed, in a suburb, i must strain my neck leftwards to
watch the screen. my silver flute lays beside the telephone; a purple piglet
box on the floor. the boxes to wrap this machine in have been fetched,
and they await the final moment. i am told that my trail leads far and
wide, and it does. piles of clothing, shoes, bags, books... what else wouldn't
i have with me? objects, let's pretend they teach us. oh! and another fur-covered
creature, not the black one but the beige one now, joined me.
cotton and silk, paper, tin, corrugated cardboard and plastic.
yes my back doesn't like this position. and me, fascinated
by evolution
only recently having learnt that our backs were not designed for walking.
silly me, how logical!
pictures, soon perhaps.
counting counting
no gossip here
me and Indigo making peace again on the highway with the candy-moon.
the rustic scrape and freeing spirit of their music defines me, sometimes.
and simultaneously, sweeps me back to more bittersweet times.
tears held in check, my mind wandered to where only music can
bring me. was it supposed to have such a strong effect? it seems
to be an important part of many lives, however the emotional
description of how it makes us feel, how it brings us together,
is often lost along the way. or am i constantly trying to define
the undefinable. 'don't go there' you'll ruin it....
making contacts and keeping them, my life, although
threatened
by detachment physically, is becoming more connected. i mustn't
forget this. my web is larger now and that makes me feel more
comfortable. the ones who seem local may not be.the connections
can be made at any point, including via you. some people recognize
that we enjoy what we are good at, and i won't dispute this.
slowly, what must be done is getting done. my preference
is to do.
some prefer not to do. and then what?
i am my own inspiration. i sometimes, watch myself,
watch others
reactions to myself, and am amused. who is that? i ask. is this the
same animal i knew in june? i didn't know that one, really.
An imposter, an aberation sent to add balance.
a mutation.
when i am watching myself like this; i spin. i'm on
ice skates;
i'm twirling, my arms at my side, sent lightly upward with centrifugal
force.my head arches back slightly to counterbalance and my now
hair lifts gently off my neck. nothing and everything is making me spin.
eyes are on me but no one is there. then i'm moving forward, in a line
i turn on one skate-creating the sharpest of ice-scratching sounds,
bend my right knee, and pick as hard as life into the ice behind me
with my left foot. from there the daydream stops. i know where it
goes; i know where the feeling takes me-i know why i dream it.
it's the launching, not the flying. the preparation, the momentum.
the strength, grace, and the speed.
and the music which i hear from upstairs inspires me
also.
sounds like Shuman, or Brahms? it's no wonder i spend so
much time pretending to dance. it's really no wonder.
each set of eyes reads this separately yet i write
for the whole.
each heart feels uniquely yet we live for the sum.
how difficult a task to concentrate on the singular effects
and appreciate each one for what it is.
instead of me and them,
us and you; let's try you and i.
'to understand'. what can we really understand? what
does it mean
to you? i understand math. i understand why my back is sore. do i
understand homosexuality? and what kind of stupid word is 'under-
stand' anyway?
the spices have been sorted and the shoes packed. no
seeds over
the border, and stuff that a sloppy dog might think is marijuana
can be individually donated into half-empty bottles. sometimes,
the most tedious and seemingly unimportant tasks can bring satisfaction.
akin to rolling coins, which was also completed tonight.
little skipped heartbumps thinking about tomorrow.
it's a biggy,
the day of atonement, er, announcement. now i'm on the other end.
whispers behind my back this time, and glances shot around the room
wondering 'why is he/she leaving?'. some will be envious, some sad.
some glad, some indifferent. a few of each i suppose. i don't know
about any global emails donating my forwarding address, but i may
wish everyone luck. (some need it more than others).
ahh, as i recline here on this sofa bed. free.
the berries were beautiful as we walked. the sun and
the warm mid september
breeze glorious. the wildlife frolicked and the air smelled with life,
but the most
entertaining of all were the mushrooms. as i walked and marveled at the
varieties,
i thought 'why in the heck are they so amazing?'. as we went, we saw a
new
species every three feet, and each one became more special. not lost in
the plethora
there but more and more unique in it's own right. more beautiful, precious.
from the teeny tiniest to the fattest and squishiest-there must have been
over
three hundred species. small pointy yellow ones, bright as the midday sun,
flaming crimson complete with honey colored dimples. round rotund ones
with
brown spiny protusions, and creamy shiny flat topped ones, some of which
looked like glass.then there were the coral reefs, sticking straight up
in clusters,
branching at the tips, only two inches high or so. little button ones,
white, with
the narrowest stems you could hardly believe they could hold up their caps.
i searched anxiously for the queens, the morels, but there were none to
be.
- - - - - - - - - - -
cooincidences of the week include my brother and i
simultaneously
placing bottles of lectric shave on the table, amongst others.
so? the release has been had, my shoulders fallen.
a mild amount of
angst, albeit positive, still rustling up my nerves - but all in all, i
am free.
quoting from a letter of resignation written september
12 1997,
"the time i have spent with xyz has been by far one of the most
fulfilling experiences of my life. i say this not only because of the
technical knowledge i have acquired during this time but also in
light of the many fascinating, kind, and wise people whom i have
had the pleasure of dealing with since i joined xyz in the spring of 1994."
the funniest part is that it is true. the most unbelievable
part is
that not so long ago i would have told you something so completely
different that no one would believe it. that's the most fascinating part.
never sure if it's the positive outlook that these life changes have brought
to me or merely hindsight being 20/20, in the end i am entirely ecstatic
to
be blessed with this opinion, now. what a gift, to have come full circle;
rushing into xyz with such open arms, awaiting all things wonderful and
postitive: Being faced with so much sadness and discouragment; and then
returning, in the end to such a wholistic view of the entire experience.
For this I am eternally greatful, and only one person other than myself
completely understands this. was it my own doing? circumstance? fate?
who knows. but it is.
it's like a new breath for me. after feeling like a
caged animal for so many
weeks and days and eventually months, i am standing on solid ground again.
i only hope that some of this has accurately been recorded here, and i
can tell you that i really wish i could enclose the minutest details of
my life here-but alas i cannot. the reasons for which are valid, i swear.
and funny how electronicness still culminates on paper.
september 11
be still my mind
and active my body
the challenge, says she, is to merely feel, setting things down
on paper
in such a way as to evoke, imply, and capture, without harm. feelings
like learning about other people; individuals, mostly, which in the same
thought describes yourself; your apparent inability to primarily see the
faults in others; taking from them in such a natural way, what is good.
picking off the cherries of life, and enjoying them, like a smile, for
a while.
they are so tasty, and without them-most everything would fall dull,
lifeless, boring. and this tells much about others as well, so learning
about others by learning about others. how unique is our perspective,
anyway? only unique in our ability to see good and bad, i think. the rest
meshes together, purely unimportant. entirely cosmetic.
i probably must go now. landed again for a millisecond,
dreaming, oh
dreaming of the moment when my belongings are reunited for good.
i can feel them leaving, taste the sweet arrival, and smell their presence
in a rented car admist the background smog, much lighter this time,
of the results of more than ten million motor vehicles. vehicles which
move around on roads constructed for that purpose.
september came september gone
and what have i but lost
thin anguish reigns where hormones rise
and memories acost;
how dare they take a soul in stride
how lasting are the thoughts
to push a beauty from a view
and wrap it with our hearts.
i don't really know anything. the alt 'f' 's' saves the document
but the back i live with doesn't like what i do. i forgot to buy
butter and i forgot to check my messages. forgot? i wouldn't
even call it that.
trapsing across the continent, i still don't have any toothpaste.
pms settling in nicely now, everything is really bugging me.
the tylenol hasn't seem to have done a single thing and i still
can't remember what it was i wanted to write.