I dream of foggy London streets. Brew pubs and red telephone booths. ALL I hear is an English accent. I long for crumpets and a spot o’ tea. I stroll down streets familiar from a prior life once lived. I remember.. the small bakery where I’d get our fresh baguettes and bread. I smile gently at the flower boy. I think I danced with his great grandfather. Pick up my pace to find myself placed in the center of time square. Chaos surrounds me. Different languages being spoken ALL around me. I understand everything. I understand energy. I spin like a top. Still. Grace. I smell the funk exuding through the grates. I thrive. Feeling completely alive. Boot camp living. Walk fast. Talk faster. Attitude. Always. Everything urgent. Real recognizes real in that rare instance of stillness.
My left ear pulls to the right. Adrift.. searching for for off sound of Spanish guitar. Barcelona… I feel you in me. The universe is me for delivery. Like the others you will not be a sprint or jog. You will be for the long haul. My body sways to ocean waves. Salt in air. Mesmerized by story written inside. Under lock and key. Mahriahized. ALL serious. Brown almond shaped eyes. I miss PCH. A guaranteed heart race. My heart open to ALL unknown. I pause life. Stoic. Mad. Dodging jabs. I wait for my real life to begin. I paint my face. Character in place. Hair dyed. I cover up my pain. Torture chamber within me. Solitary confinement. No participation. Ex-communicated. Celebrations un-celebrated. I punish myself. Intently. Self sabotage. Belongings remain boxed three years later in garage. Everyday I see the vase empty of flowers you used to shower me with. I’m your beautiful. Your boxed cigarettes lay on a dresser you’ve never touched. Un-smoked. Un-touched. I remind myself you’ll come back. I light a candle for you nightly so you know where to find me. I ‘m missing you. Who am I? A birthday two weeks away. A year older. Closer to forty. I look in the mirror at the little girl staring intensely back at me. When will she grow up? At what point will she fade away? Going through the motions. Moving mountains. Parting oceans. Inside filled with fear. Fierce exterior. Lethal tongue. Eat my young. Literally. Figuratively. I live for the stories flowing through my veins. Inspired by strength and faith. Chin up I stand in fate. My mind writes in calligraphy. Journaling. My heart holds the master plan. A language spoken by one. He whom holds the key is thee truest one and only. Carnated specificaly for me. Mirror image. His rib. I wait for him to decode me. Open me. Roll tape watching outtakes and playback. Mysterious me. He’s my leading man. Takes my hand. Paying back our stolen days. Celebrating like it’s our first date. Birthdays.
Lonely made-up American meaningless days we call holidays. To celebrate a programed date. The city shuts down. Everyone frantically running around. Spending money that results in debted stress. I sit alone and wait out the chaotic brainwashed mess. Completely hollowed from the saddened truths. I refuse to download that malware and perpetuate the systems fuckedupness. I break my nails. Scroll facebook like a crack addict. While looking at piled up bills. I dance alone. I sleep alone. I eat alone. I was born alone and will die alone. Insanely sane. I thrive in my own existence. Saturated in ALL things pain. HUSH I live in a lackadaisical rush. I brighten my avatar spray tan and blush.
Mi vida loca. Melancholy moment. Thank you Xanax for the calm to process this state of madness. Flashes of red. I piss a muddy yellow hue. Dehydrated. I thirst for you. Til then I wait for my real life to begin. (stuck on a loop)