Tuesday, November 17, 2009

glitz

my baby will eventually face the dogs.
my baby will be put on trial for the glitzy debutantes and sharply-dressed blood shot dobermans lining the boulevard.
i will stand back with locked eyes, lips sealed in stone, and sympathetic beads trickling down my temples
as they scan him down
sniffing for
the slightest scent of vulnerability.

Monday, November 16, 2009

unmarked box

Hello.

Who are you?
Why are you knocking on my door?
Where is this going to go?
Are you going to be a good memory?
A regret?
A lesson to learn?
Of course we are both young. And one of the most wonderful, addicting feelings is that feeling of brand new young love. This person is unfamiliar, exciting, new, fun. They are a present you haven't unwrapped yet and want desperately to see all the layers inside.

We are so compassionate, understanding, and effortlessly forgiving in the first few stages. It's almost exciting to find those first few habits that slightly annoy us, as we embrace them as the differences between us. We swell with happiness upon discovering more and more similarities that we have, justifying over time why its just so appropriate that we're together.

So glad we found each other.

Maybe this will be the person that changes my life.
Maybe they won't be.

Whatever, fuck it, it doesn't matter now.
Even if this doesn't last, I'm crazy about this person ..I love them right here and now and want to cherish that. Even if this person breaks my heart one day, I will cherish feeling this happy all the more right now.


It is so scary...the whole fucking thing is so scary.
Maybe it will be something.
Maybe because of social circumstances, it will be nothing. A brief whatever.
Who knows?

hello.
tell me your story.

Hank

Dear charles,
Was it like this when you were still alive?

A broken violin in the corner, with one string left.
wait, no, 2


Charles, are you there?

Charles if you were alive, we'd probably be friends. You'd probably like me. You'd tell me i have an old soul and a young face.


Charles, we'd probably have people asking about us.
but we wouldn't care.

We would sit around your house all day, and you'd give me piano lessons while we drank scotch and smoked cigarettes.
and talked. and talked and talked.
We'd play records.
We'd stare out the back screen door, rocking on chairs, puffing cigs,watching the cretins of Los Angeles bustle about in silence.

Content.

Charles, I wish I could talk to you.
When I read your books, I want to fall inside.
Close my eyes and fall head first, let the book swallow me up.

I'd land, tumbling in on your dirty red rug right as you were getting home the post office. You would always have beer. and wine. And you'd never ask why I was there. You'd just know.


You'd hand me my drink as I flopped on the ratty old couch and sighed.

"Charles, they're not changing."
"They never will, doll" you'd reply, opening the piano lid.
"Charles, ..they are so stupid. ...so so stupid."

When you lose something you can't replace

Once upon a time-
I woke up every morning in that apartment with the hardwood floor.
the black and white tiles in the kitchen

Once upon a time-
We would invite our friends over for poker
People we had known since the days of lost baby teeth
The days we scraped our knees from jumping off the swings
too high
We were that couple, hosting get-togethers at our place with childhood friends, watching movies, eating dinner, smoking cigarettes in the kitchen.
"Ash, can you show ***** where the recycling is?"
(it was outside the kitchen door)

Once upon a time-
We spent evenings soaking in the old fashioned bathtub,
sipping wine,
reading books
while Cat Stevens records played in the next room.
Every once n a while I'd look up to see those eyes smiling at me.

Once upon a time-
I watched him hang my painting up on the wall.

Once upon a time-
I would lie on my stomach on the big soft bed
circling items in the newest Ikea catalog.
Things we couldn't afford but I thought would look great in the place.
(a sharpie next to his morning note that read "pick out some furniture! we need a new couch!")

Once upon a time-
We would tivo our favourite shows and watch them after we got off work...him from the record label, me from the coffee shop. He'd bring home demo cd's, stickers, patches, and posters... I'd bring home cookies, muffins, coffee, and tea. He'd tell me about all the bands that were about to hit the scene and blow everyone away. We knew all about them before anyone did and it felt good.

Once upon a time-
I'd wake up alone in the apartment, step out of bed, and discover a trail of paper hearts leading to a note on the family room couch.
"It is so hard to leave you in the morning. You look so pretty when you sleep, all I want to do is crawl back in bed and sleep next to you all day. Have a good day, kit. <3"

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

5 years ago, i had everything figured out.
At 19,
I knew who I was going to marry,
who was going to be the father of my kids.
5 years ago, I'd found the one.
I had no interest in looking around, firmly believing no one could ever compare to him.
I was his, he was mine and he was everything I needed.
My best friend, my soul mate, the most handsome boy I'd ever seen.
My gentle giant that scooped me up and held me close.
We talked about the future with so much excitement....
He was going to storm the music industry then get into politics, while I dominated the art world and charmed the film giants.
We were going to prove everyone wrong. Profoundly close since childhood, we knew everything about each other.

Everything.

We had them all fooled.
We were gonna make it.
5 years ago, we had everything figured out.

We talked about the day when we'd have to separate again and do our own thing. Grow up on our own.
Go to college.
Be with other people.
Struggle without the comfort of each other.
It loomed in front of us, in our very near future, like an advancing army. A war marching towards us that would thrust guns our hands, shout orders, and tear us apart.
But we smiled...we would make it through. We always did.
It may take years.
But we would come back to each other.

* * * * * * * *

5 years ago,
I had everything figured out.
And since then i've watched it all disappear.
The slowest death you could ever imagine.
5 years of fading out
day by day

drop by drop.

fights, fallouts, relapses, hang ups, and tears
have turned what was supposed to be a temporary separation
into a seemingly permanent one.
Day after day
The room has collected dust.
And the line hasn't rung in almost a year.
dead.

How did we get here?
How did this happen?

I've wandered around and found a few
Some of them kind of look like him
Some of them listen to the same music
And sometimes some of them even make me laugh

But never like he did.

Maybe we were 19 and naive.
Maybe everyone was right.

Maybe I don't care.
Maybe I would give anything to feel that again,
to go back to those days
and feel that comfort.

But for now, I'll continue to desperately board up this hole in my heart that all the bottles in the world couldn't fill,
as it grows deeper and deeper.
Nail it shut,
cover it up with artificial look-alikes that have similar green eyes

Hoping to nothing that all that love wasn't in vain.
That he's still coming back to save me one day.

>>>>>;

One afternoon, I met Gwenyth Paltrow.

It was at the Getty museum in Los Angeles.

She was very tall, in an all white suit with her hail in a pony tail.

She looked very tired.

Nick and I had seen her earlier in the museum but we decided not to bother her.

She was with her family and looked very tired.

About a half an hour later, we were on the complete other side of the museum looking at a tiny painting in the corner of a big room.

Nick nudged my hip and we both looked up. she was looking at the same painting as us.
we exchanged calm "oh shit" looks...sighed..then both spoke up.

Her voice was very polite and calm ...genuine and friendly.

We gabbed about the Royal Tenenbaums of course...but kept conversation to a minimum. ..she looked very tired.

She signed our museum ticket stub: "to Nick and A...from Margot"

Afterwards we lay on the sloping lawn of the Getty, passing our new little signed treasure back and forth.

She wasn't Gwenyth that day.

It hadn't been too long since her father passed away.

and Margot's sad eyes shone through.

she looked very tired....

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

/||||\\\\

there is nothing better then driving down the 405 freeway in early November when the sun is still as warm and radiant as ever in the southern CA sky. Its 10:23 AM and you're just about to hit the 10 West. You don't drive recklessly on purpose...you're just excited. Driving becomes a race, especially with the right kind of music..the kind that just wouldn't be right listening to on normal volume; the kind that makes you drum your fingers and wrists along the steering wheel. That you can't help but smile to.
As you turn the pin, the new YYY's single is blaring and a plane begins to drop gracefully towards the SM airport, seemingly right along side you. You have your eyes on the road, but for a second you watch it stream across the sky as you coast along together
with hundreds swimming all around you
the sun shining down upon you
the towers breaking through the smog
and tangled freeways, green and clogged

(climb higher, baby)
you wave back at the plane and drive into the city
that for some is heaven. for some is hell.
but not for those who know it all too well...