Leaving New York is like leaving the best friend I never had.
It's also like leaving a lover, who is really really really really good in bed, and who has endless stamina and only lets you not have sex from 5 am to 11 am.
Pacifica is like any lover I've ACTUALLY had -- really pretty, but just ain't so great when it comes down to it. And it won't take you anywhere, it just sits in its underwear all day drinking a beer watching football. Ok, maybe that last part isn't any lover I've had.
Bad analogy.
It's also like leaving a lover, who is really really really really good in bed, and who has endless stamina and only lets you not have sex from 5 am to 11 am.
Pacifica is like any lover I've ACTUALLY had -- really pretty, but just ain't so great when it comes down to it. And it won't take you anywhere, it just sits in its underwear all day drinking a beer watching football. Ok, maybe that last part isn't any lover I've had.
Bad analogy.
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SF Bay Area
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Re: A fragmented fragment of a fragmented journal
Fri, April 1, 2005 - 4:18 PMMy lovers have all been too wirey, or too buff. It is funny how the biggest guys can be the biggest babies. But when I used to wrap my arms around them...or allow them to wrap their arms around me, I would feel safe, protected. Now, i feel housed in my own place...secure within my own arms.
Hmmm. San Francisco was like the lover who fed me...then starved me for periods of time. It mostly starved me. I was always poor...never had enough. Recently, Korea has been the lover that puts me on display...I am the trophy girlfriend, with big, white shiny teeth...smile!
But now I allow myself to grimace at times...and just be real. Mostly, I feel joy...but only when it is sincere. If it doesn't look good, I don't care. The kids know the difference between a fake and someone who cares about what their doing, and the repercussions of your actions are what karma is all about. What goes around...
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Re: A fragmented fragment of a fragmented journal
Sat, April 2, 2005 - 12:26 AM...doesn't necessarily come around.
I know, I know, I know, I know,
I'm a terrible hypocrite,
it makes me cringe.
But I will tell you all
all
about it;
the city
and the lights
and the smog
and the bumping,
crashing,
foot traffic
all feel like warm kisses
and hugs,
and a gooooood long cuddle.
It will never let you rest. It will never let you get a word in edgewise, because it knows as well as you do that it is older, it has more experience, as well as being on top of the world, with a fresh new outlook despite being an aged being. It takes you in its arms and makes you take it -- not that it is without your consent. No, no, you consented the minute you stepped off that plane, baby. You enter the city, and it rules you, not the other way around. You might protest, but you know in your heart of hearts that you've already said yes, yes, yes, and that there is no safety word. -
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Re: A fragmented fragment of a fragmented journal
Sat, April 2, 2005 - 3:19 PMA place that takes you...either into its arms to hold or into its hands to crush...
I am jumping from finger to finger, evading the fist. I am bouncing on the destruction that could occur...
When the walls that hold you are your memories or your city...the great dominos of the skyscapers...trying to reach heaven...over the birds and near the angels and airplanes. Smog has always covered me like a pie crust I could never eat through. My voice is echoing, repeating itself, sounding like a bell or a gong. I am in this strange country and all I want to do is eat pizza or pesto....stuff I didn't normally eat while at home.
There is no place or person that saves...Jesus saves...but I believe that he wanted us all to constantly change that is why he was not perfect...only human. God is constant change. It is scary to think that you are always changing, fluid rather than solid. God, to feel truly alive...sparks kicked up with sand and earth, and sucking in faces that you see...and looking up always. And smiling... -
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Re: A fragmented fragment of a fragmented journal
Tue, April 5, 2005 - 8:02 AMsore throats and ug...dry mouth...let me slip my way behind you for a minute...you will see part of my mind running away from me. I can;t catch it...it is too late.
I got the worst haircut today. I now look like a 80's power-business woman...I went to the comfort of the mall.
Why is my cartoon self dancing? Because it can and I can;t. I am swimming in goo over here...messy, messy, messy! Will you just visit already...but I am stuck over here as well...stuck to wanting success. She is already being fed by them...the gossip has already seeped (sept) in and now...I cannot talk. When I try only silence comes out. I mouthe words to try them out...but even I don;t know the truth. I fogot how to laugh. I go to parties with cans...and open them at the correct time...canned laughter. -
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Re: A new fragment from another part of the world
Sun, July 17, 2005 - 9:39 AMFinding a place to live here is like
getting to know the city part by part.
To understand that I really only
knew this tiny little part of the
limited space that surrounds me
within the boundary that I live in.
Finally I know this city as well or
better than I know San Francisco.
I used to dream about someday moving
away from here. Now it seems I'll
stay for a while longer.
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