blow me

eh Sunday sunday.  things i mull upon: my alarm going off when it shouldn't (and not this morning), ecstasy (what makes it?), space (how to make more of it, inside and all around), autumn (you match me), and the way my fingers, my arms, my chest, my mind itches to write things.  that's sort of like an alarm going off that you didn't set that enraptures you when you do it and clears space from this thing that it's taking away inside you and then you can breathe in fresh crisp, heavy, set air.  i'm here, now.

this city has way too many stairs.  i've made a meditation of it, of rising, of walking, one step ahead, one step above, one step at a time.  they say if you do it too fast, if you get to where you need to be too quickly, people will think you're crazy.  what a fool, he's there and he doesn't need to be, people would whisper, smirk, titter, twitter behind carefully placed palms.  as i walked one glorious night, i thought of how i've been enriched, by people, places, that have blown me out of and beyond my edges, enriched and endowed me, upgraded me from Version .0001 to Version This Is Beyond Fucking Incredible Amazing

i blew up like silver light in darkness when you breathed into me.

baby Sun

honestly, it's tiring to spend so much time thinking about existence.  i need to retire.

hooper girl

i imagined the moment of my death, when the Creator would hold me down, and roll out on a stream the span of my life.  "Well, what do you think," He'd ask, His long arm sweeping the length of my colorful scroll, "of these images you wrote?  You made it all up, you know, the good parts, and the worst."  I folded my clothes in silence and walked back home thinking of just how much my life would change, after that night.

O

you know what shape is utterly lovely?  the Circle.  how perfect and sacred and truly wonderful is the circle?  no nasty edges to deal with, no harsh lines, just perfect never ending beginnings ending or beginning; you don't even know where to start.  for example: completion, unity, the beginning equal to the end, unbroken, of both boundary and enclosure, people ink circles into their skin to show their indelible belief in karma, and halos around one's head signifies something pretty special, i'd say.  then there's the sun, the moon, the earth, stars, the trajectory of planets, there's an embrace and there's the eyes, the window to the soul, i didn't even get to rings on fingers yet, there's the dragon eating his tail, there's bowls to hold broth in, there's wombs to hold babies, and then there's "coming full circle"

the Circle gives me a tremendous amount of hope in this frankly rather fucked-up pandora's box world, quite frankly.

i wish everyone a life-full of amazing Circles, "amazing" being inherent, since obviously, not one can be bad.

  

king maker

i had a friend they called the "king maker".  for the longest time, i didn't get it.  i sat around and just couldn't understand it: who makes kings when they could be kings themselves if you're in the business of making kings??  what a great friend.  funny, genuine, warm, giving, chivalrous, caring, loving, witty, funny and brilliant.  who needs a better friend?

thinking on this the other day, and headed out on my way, from Point A to Point B, i came upon the head of a broken key.  its shimmering gold caught my eye and i stooped to the pavement to wonder what doors it had opened when it had been whole.  who held it, what was behind that door?  mysteries, dreams, hopes, loved ones, reviled ones?  later, arriving at Point B, crossing a hot street in Brooklyn, again, something gleamed from the ground.  there, in the middle of a gummy, hot intersection at the corners of street and street, lay a jumble of broken keys, doors somewhere near or far never to be opened by them again.

keys are magical things.  doors are pretty spectacular.

sometimes i'm hard of hearing.  sometimes i can't hear.  sometimes i don't hear.  sometimes i don't want to hear, sometimes i put plugs in my ears, and sometimes i lie to myself about what i'm hearing.  maybe all this time they were saying "key maker"?  so then, what's better - someone to make someone else king, or someone who can open doors anywhere?  i'll go with keys.

all good things

those who know me well know very well my need to imbue a sense of meaning or at least symbolism on pretty much anything in existence.  i honestly can't help but think that the Universe is  some..........well, not to sound so shamanistic, but, some sacred Story Teller holding up one big fat amazing delicious mystery choose your own adventure picture book for me to flip through hungrily and figure out and sometimes it's Dostoevsky, and sometimes it's Maurice Sendak, and sometimes it's some homeless man on the streets.  how i loved those choose your own adventure books.  i could read the same one 12 times and know every possible ending and still be as thrilled as the first time when i turned to page 18 instead of 22 when i chose to jump off the cliff and not run over the drawbridge and found out that there is actually an escape jeep waiting at the bottom and not a swamp full of starving alligators.  i would stuff my face with multiple lenders frozen bagels, toasted, smeared amply with cheap margarine, or sometimes gummy store-brand cream cheese if we were having a lucky week, truly one after another, and read those books, all day.  choose your own adventure.

i've heard a lot lately of how we specifically choose what's in our lives.  shitty relationships, check. stressful jobs, check.  loud neighbors, check.  but honestly, the pages i've been choosing lately....they just keep flying through the dark scary tunnels, one lifesaver after another.  i turned to page 67 when i chose to keep swinging on the trapeze instead of jumping back on the plank and on page 67, the plank plummets to the circus tent floor, sabotaged by some crazy clown mad culprit.  i keep swinging, and my hot, handsome partner and i not only finish our act - to much applause - and catch the clown culprit who let the elephants loose on page 14.

the best thing about choose your own adventure is that you can choose to start again, or, you can just choose where to start.  

   

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7 has long been my favorite number.  there are so many exquisite meanings to 7.  God made the earth in 7 days, 7 is linked to perfection in the tarot, there are 7 celestial orbits, 7 in Hebrew is from a root word meaning "full", or "complete", 7 denotes great wisdom in numerology, i just mentioned "7" seven times.  it actually looks quite beautiful just to look at, too: 7

seven years with a psychopath.

8.) good things come, to those who wait.