I am serene.
Malgr�s the cheapening of my words, (I shouldn't have shown you those pictures - though there's no turning back now) it doesn't really matter.
I am serene.
I haven't slept. I lay awake half the night, listening to Johnny rant about Genevieve when she worked in Disneyland, paying attention but thinking of other people. Of another person. Why isn't there a you, here in MonStreal? Why did I stay up half the night, arguing over poetry and unix and sending you jazz mp3s?
Somehow, the warmth is in my blood. The green in my tea, the myriad of blue hues of my display, today is my Monday yet it doesn't feel like a Monday ever does, rusty nails scraping at my nerves.
Over breakfast, John cornered me over career choices. I know what I want to do, and I know what to do if the job offers fall through.
One of my exams is over, three projects to go. I can do this I can.
We drove to work, listening to an old radio show all the way. My voice was shrill amidst old Ministry tunes and Depeche Mode croons, but my smile was so much more honest then.
I wandered in this morning, to the sight of cf's haircut, and a note on my keyboard accompanied by his spiral hairclip that I adore. (okay, so maybe I have an occasional thing for accessories. That's not the point.) It's on extended loan. cf, you're going to ruin your bitch-ass reputation.
I am free I am free, they've insulted me yet again giving me meaningless tasks at work, something I've done a thousand times, something I wrote the damn procedural document about... But I don't care.
I'm drowning, I'm naked, and I'm not gasping for air.
and last night I wrote this, and so desperately need criticisms...:
Romani, romani,
With your bow-legged lurch
Your impossible slouch telling stories of The Way Things Are
Romani, you call to me
My blood aches to follow your rivers, your unbeaten paths
My heels, on concrete, make empty echoes of your sobre crunch
Across twigs that are worth more than smartcards
I follow you in my sleep, in my authorized lunch hours
I follow you naked, the rain sluicing from my skin
As if I too, were invincible, like you
Alive, but outside this jungle of steel cables and concrete forest floor
I will not turn, to glance one last time over my bare shoulder
As I leave the door ajar
It will take me years and days and months to travel across this empty room,
But romani, romani - I will follow soon.
I am serene. I am warm. I am not alone, cowering in my corner of the world. Thank you, tall dark and handsome vision in icq, and thank you.