I Am Really a Libra
I can’t really write.
So I’m reading a lot. A lot. I’m reading a lot. That’s about all I can do right now. Everything else is basically too hard.
These are the things I can do right now and not feel over-stimulated or overwhelmed:
1. Go to the library
2. Go to the grocery store
3. Drive my car (but not too much in town because that’s over-stimulating)
4. Read
5. Be in my pool all day
6. Talk to people via cell phone
7. See about five people in person*
8. Eat
9. Sleep. Eventually.
10. Think about writing.
*But not at the same time.
weightedwords asked: missed you glad you're back!
Awwh! Thank you :). I’ve missed you too! I’m glad to be back. I tried to send this to you, but I couldn’t find your message link on your blog :/
Hey!!!
I’m back in the USA!
Woah!
No, really, like whooooaaaaa. Wow.
Also, the forest surrounding my house is the greenest thing I’ve ever seen. Holy shit. It’s green. Beautifully green.
the sea stood up and hugged you
as though you were responsible
for keeping it blue”
To my incredibly loyal Followers
I’m leaving Greece in a week and a half.
The internet has been terrible here.
I haven’t been able to post at all. My life got crazy hectic/amazing here.
I plan to pick the blogging back up as soon as I get back home. I swear there will be the same dedication I had before once I’ve made my return to America.
Also, I started working on a bigger project. I won’t be posting that here. But there will be posts of a completely different nature. Still writing stuff. Lots of stuff. You guys rock. And I am also going to do lots of tumblr catch up soon. I’ve missed out on a lot.
The van across from my apartment. The flowers too.
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
Until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
we’re inconsolable.
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we’ll never get used to it.”
Richard Siken, “Scheherazade”
You say that you’re going to be a really ugly old woman and when I ask you why you would ever think that, you say that you smoke and drink and your grandmas aren’t pretty. But I can’t imagine you ever being anything besides as divinely beautiful as the way I see you in the morning when the sun doesn’t come in through the windows because we close the currents at night so that we can sleep late, so it’s dark inside and your eyes are closed for full minutes after I’ve opened mine. So I can just stare at you; I can stare at you and see how beautiful you are when you aren’t awake and making those godawful faces you use to express yourself fully. There are moments though, small moments, when you aren’t banging on tables to prove a point and waving your cigarette around like a sixth finger, when your face is soft and delicate in all its small features and I love you, I adore you, I want to touch your face and your hands and wrists and push your dangly bracelets away and feel the skin beneath your freckles. When I want to tell you, you’re going to be beautiful when you’re old because you’ll never be old to me. You’ll never be old.
It’s a lot harder to post here because the internet isn’t very dependable. Also, the electricity goes out a lot. But, I promise to post at least once a week.
Sorry, I know it’s been long.
I am glad for certain things and not so glad for others. I met a boy today who writes love letters to his future wife and I found so much beauty in that that I nearly cried, but did not because so many others were around. Men can do things just as unexpectedly as women can and this is important to know. There is no dividing line in gender that makes one sex more romantic than the other. Today I was in a coffee shop and a Greek man fell in love with me out of nowhere. When I left, the door did not close completely and he kissed me quickly on the cheek and told me he would kiss me another day. He ran to me and made this confession in a way that an American man never would, but undoubtedly could if he would try to release his inhibitions and love the beauty of a stranger. This man looked like Adrian Brody, but moved like an athlete that I can’t name because I don’t know the names of famous athletes. But he was quick and agile in the way he rounded the counter to greet me as if he had been granted the winged feet of Hermes to reach me with elicit speed.
Another man confessed today that he had never fallen in love in any other way than at first sight and seeing that person made him feel as if he were ready to die. With all these stories of masculine love and romance, how can I return to America where men are boarded up, like old abandoned houses that you become the personal realtor of? Ready all the insides for living, make them habitable again with so much work and so little reward.
So, I’m in Greece. And I know I haven’t been very active, but the internet hasn’t been too awesome.
