4/20/2020

 

I begin drinking a lot of water again remembering that a while ago I said that not drinking water would be part of my problem. if I drank water it would solve it.  I also begin thinking of what legacy means and if I did have a choice what legacy I would leave. I think it would be less about being incomprehensible and more about being furtive, not in motive but action. being sly. It’s taurus season so I begin naming my values: privacy, sure, but so is a small stage. I value pride and esteem as well as secrecy and a door. I try to find the balance. I value luxury and love and beauty and words and witchcraft.

temperance they say.

 

they have also encouraged me to keep a journal for a long time. and now as I scramble to write everything I remember down about everything in my life so I don’t lose it. so I don’t burn it the way I have burned everything up already: the letters from my father, the letters from my lovers, old diamonds from a partner, things that mattered once and then suddenly like I couldnt stand them like I couldnt even imagine the grip of the thing, gone. I dropped a pearl necklace down a sewer once. gone. volatile. the word of the day is volatility: me, meeting anything killer. and to kill me. I always want them to kill me.

 

I instead shape the journal the way that it pleases me. to write my feelings, yes, but cryptic still protected but also true and more flagrant in a way when they are fresh and crisp. I understand that the act of diary is so you dont forget that once you were in love. you begin to name them all:

 

the first place I revisit is boulder colorado. my first great love. I do it with music. I play my old Pandora station. it works that easy. the minute the beats start I am taken to the same place: my big synthetic down jacket, the freezing cold but endless sun, the mountains, the ice caps. the way I always saw my breath each step of the way. the deer that passed so casually on the right of me in the fog as I rode my bike. how could i have left a place like that?  it was the most swaddled place I’d ever been. it had stunning sunsets and incredible snowfalls. I was there for the great flood. I was there once passing a coyote. I was there once. Its like love is unbearable or something. and memory. my brother died while I lived in colorado. I think that bears weight too. there was a lot of sobbing in that town. to go back without emotion so frankly, people say you can’t travel time like that but I have always found myself at various intersections when someone asks:

 

excuse me? how do I get….

 

and I don’t know where I am having been somewhere else for the past, I don’t know, thirty or so minutes. if I am anything elemental, it is wind.

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