hell with it - in the morning
09/21/2003 04:15 p.m.
some say it's better but i say it ain't ... i've had that song stuck in my head all morning; ah, but what a beautiful time it's been. last night, wine and beauty and i felt like never falling never. i wrote here and got a form incomplete and said the hell with it and turned off the computer. so that emotion, that fervor and drive, is gone from my words - all i have left is the recollection to set down. and now that this journal has been obliviated by eyes other than my own, i can only say what that knowledge will allow me to say whereas life was pure language on this page before, perhaps the only place my graphomania was unmanifest. but it's okay, it's good to learn. so i will. wine and jazz, poetry kisses and friends. cous cous and saltines. potatoes and curly hair. everything so sensory and meaningful, a poem i know though i don't, that i would like to read again, the feeling of being in a grey hazy wet sky above clouds; invisible; no one to know that i was warmly waiting there, joyous. and the sadness that comes with happiness was gone; it was love, pure love that i've been feeling for the people around me that was true this time. manifest love, i wanted to embrace them all and i could and did and i still cannot express the depth with which i find myself capable of loving these days. and i want to sit in my room and sit out in the grass and never look back or around or up - only away - and write for days, sans food, sans sound, only clouds moving by in fast-forward; writing, writing. words with more than just the meaning of their design; with the meaning of their shape and sound and color and all the senses and the smell and embrace and violence of the words themselves. i want to never do anything but this.
I am currently Reflective
I am listening to click clack