People are born
And grow up to work CONSUME and die
THERE ARE STARS ABOVE EVERY NIGHT!
....and nobody looks up.
Up above themselves and above this all.
Above this city of waste and strange contraditctions. Cement, strippers, fast food and cars.
What an incredibly sad WASTE. And it is such a trap- locking you in, and nobody wants to cut off their own leg to escape.
But how can you not?
SEE? We are all wasting away.
Something worse than death-
and the destruction of the gifts of love and life and heaven.
Twisting it into something so detrimental,
our own creation of hell.
Filled with cement, strippers, fast food and cars.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Coconuts
I remember the way the air felt, engulfing you and mixing into your skin. Damp, warm, moist.
I remember the smell- a mix of city air, salty ocean and sweaty skin. A faint floral aroma floating on the breeze.
I remember the insomnia, tossing and turning, drenching the sheets. No air conditioning, just heat heat heat.
I remember the rain, how it came in torrents and flooded the baseball field, and how I would put on my bikini and run downstains and slip and slide, slip and slide.
I remember the look of 3am, glaring red digits across the screen of the clock. Up off the bed, trying to be quiet, not wanting to wake the house. How could they sleep?
Socks, tennis shoes-slip on feet.
Music to move to the beat.
The road, the black pavement littered with specks of silver, glimmering glittering under old orange street lights.
Start out slowly, walking, then RUN. Hit the dumpsters and RUN.
I would run run run, until I forgot my mind and felt only my body, moving, feet pounding into the ground. Going going going. Charging forward to that sacred spot. And then, the stop, the view. I remember the view, that amazing vision. Stars, blackness above, blackness on the horizon, and shining lights. Skyscrapers, palm trees, coconuts lingering above.
Did you know, 101 people die each year from a coconut hitting them on top of the head?
It felt like forever there- infinity, like I didn't exist, like I blended into the palm tree, the city, the ocean below.
Breathing, coming back to life. Moving, going back to movement. Slowly, slowly, walking back home.
5am. Time for bed. 12pm At the grocery store. Coconuts. Buy a coconut. Take it home. Call him, come open this for me.
Him- Why would you buy this at the store? They are everywhere here.
Drive to the North Shore-him, coconuts, so many coconuts.
Sand, water, waves, surf.
Back to the window, 3am.
That young girl, looking out.
That city, starring back.
It wanted me, I wanted it. I gave myself, but couldn't give it all.
That piece I gave? It's still there, I don't believe I'll ever get it back. It calls to me, that city that place. Come back come back. But how can you return to a place that no longer exists?
I remember the smell- a mix of city air, salty ocean and sweaty skin. A faint floral aroma floating on the breeze.
I remember the insomnia, tossing and turning, drenching the sheets. No air conditioning, just heat heat heat.
I remember the rain, how it came in torrents and flooded the baseball field, and how I would put on my bikini and run downstains and slip and slide, slip and slide.
I remember the look of 3am, glaring red digits across the screen of the clock. Up off the bed, trying to be quiet, not wanting to wake the house. How could they sleep?
Socks, tennis shoes-slip on feet.
Music to move to the beat.
The road, the black pavement littered with specks of silver, glimmering glittering under old orange street lights.
Start out slowly, walking, then RUN. Hit the dumpsters and RUN.
I would run run run, until I forgot my mind and felt only my body, moving, feet pounding into the ground. Going going going. Charging forward to that sacred spot. And then, the stop, the view. I remember the view, that amazing vision. Stars, blackness above, blackness on the horizon, and shining lights. Skyscrapers, palm trees, coconuts lingering above.
Did you know, 101 people die each year from a coconut hitting them on top of the head?
It felt like forever there- infinity, like I didn't exist, like I blended into the palm tree, the city, the ocean below.
Breathing, coming back to life. Moving, going back to movement. Slowly, slowly, walking back home.
5am. Time for bed. 12pm At the grocery store. Coconuts. Buy a coconut. Take it home. Call him, come open this for me.
Him- Why would you buy this at the store? They are everywhere here.
Drive to the North Shore-him, coconuts, so many coconuts.
Sand, water, waves, surf.
Back to the window, 3am.
That young girl, looking out.
That city, starring back.
It wanted me, I wanted it. I gave myself, but couldn't give it all.
That piece I gave? It's still there, I don't believe I'll ever get it back. It calls to me, that city that place. Come back come back. But how can you return to a place that no longer exists?
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