|
|
Sunday, April 3rd, 2005
|
1:42a
Ack! I don't know what I did! *kicks stuff*
I hate technology!
My cell phone currently says "Enter PUK Code:" and "SOS"... I tried making up numbers for PUK, not realizing what it was... I think I only have a few chances left before the phone just shuts down completely. Woe. I tried calling Cingular's help line, but FUCK IT ALL, the stupid place is closed until MONDAY.
FUCK IT ALL.
current mood: kicking things
current music: I WANT MY PHONE BACK (comment on this)
|
5:52p
I'm not sure why it is that I'm more likely to love (and believe in) a God on a pretty spring afternoon than an ugly winter day. Why haven't I let this go yet? I keep trying to evaluate my feelings on religion when I'm not even sure I should have any. I am clearly not Christian. I don't think Jesus was any kind of role model and I think the Bible is one of the most misused pieces of crap literature ever written. I don't think God plays any significant role in the order of the universe, if he exists. I think maybe he got the ball rolling. I think he might be in charge of Heaven. He's a very minor sort of man. If I were to believe, I wouldn't attribute any good or bad luck in my life to him.
So why can't I stop trying to believe?
I mean, what's so important about God? I don't think I should give him any more thought until I figure that out.
current mood: contemplative
current music: One Beat -- Sleater-Kinney (comment on this)
|
6:01p
Fantasy #1.
I want you to crawl over me like ants.
I want it on a hill of grass. Grass that sings where we step because it just finished raining the day before last. Grass that is an amalgamation of winter and spring with dried beige and supple green blades.
I want fistfuls of it between my fingers. I want grass stains in my beautiful chocolate mud hair. I want imprints left in the backs of my thighs. I want my toes spotted with soil from the way that I dug them into the earth.
I want your mouth on my neck, your whispers of love in my ear. I want your hands over and over my body. I want to feel the sun burning my face while you make me come, and I want to moan your name.
I want you to take me home where you'll wipe me clean. I want to feed you your favorite foods and make love to you until we both fall asleep.
I want to wake up with the light streaming through the blinds onto our faces.
current mood: wanting
current music: Oh! -- Sleater-Kinney (comment on this)
|
6:34p - The way you move, no ocean's waves were ever as fluid.
What does it mean that I've spent the afternoon thinking of God and sex? Why, it means I spent time outdoors, of course.
It's beautiful and sunny and the sky is French blue, which is what I always think on beautiful days. Beautiful days remind me of being in France. Watching out the windows of the touring bus in the last days of the trip, I saw the most gorgeous fields, full of green and purple and blue-gold grains. I saw a sky that was clear and bright. I met a world I'll always see as untainted and amazing.
I went to a park this afternoon to write. I had to drive around for a little while before I found the right park. I knew what I was looking for, but I didn't know where to find it. I wanted something quiet and wide, grassy and sunny. Now I've got dirt on my knees and feet and on the back of my shirt.
That's not a bad thing.
I don't use my body enough. I walk and fuck and sometimes I dance, but I don't use my body enough. I'm going to talk to my dad about getting a pass to the pool this summer. I've got two suits I didn't use hardly enough last year and I wouldn't mind riding my bike to the pool a couple of times every week.
When I was at the park, the sun lit a path up my legs. I brushed my fingertips over the light. My calves haven't lost as much muscle as I thought. It won't take much work at all for them to be back the way I love them. My dad had me riding bicycles the second I was old enough to learn how. He taught me over on the blacktop at Bardwell. My bike was small. White, yellow, and pink. He still tells the story of how I learned to ride in a single evening.
My friends and I liked to disappear for entire afternoons on our bicycles. I hated to wear shoes. I loved haunting garage sales. I spent so much time on my bicycle that until this year, my calves were rock hard. The couple of times I got a pedicure, the once I got a massage - the women in the salons always asked me if I was a dancer. They said I had beautiful legs.
I miss the way it felt to fully use my body. So not using it fully ends. Today.
I love the way I feel most existential when I'm being most physical. The way, when my body hurts and aches because I've done too much, I feel most satisfied and free.
And when the body finally starts to let go
let it all go at once
not piece by piece,
but like a whole bucket of stars
dumped into the universe
Whoooh! Watch it go!
Goodbye small hands, goodbye small heart
goodbye small head!
My soul is climbing tree trunks
and swinging from every branch.
current mood: satisfied
current music: Get Up -- Sleater-Kinney (1 comment |comment on this)
|
|
|
|