| There are bugs in the hot room like ladybugs on the ceiling in the room by the fan on the bed where I said "I'm sorry but it's too hot, it's not you, it's too hot" and spent a night awake and alone, reading about art in dusty-gray dawn, dawn is beautiful when you stay up to see it- alive and awake like on drugs but not- just having a life-night, when everythings not real and nothing needs to be. The fan was dusty and full of dead bugs, as all windows are, right? I woke up and thought of Ma's cafe, or whatever it's called, in Interlochen. I was going to go to Interlochen but I'll probably never go near there again. Sunday mornings all dewy and beautiful. I like up north. I remember pulling up that day, you with your hair and new sweatshirt, I have pictures of us on that beach, Platt River, all empty in the morning, so misty, so lovely, a few people walked by, some ships. I wish I'd kept with music so I could've had the Interlochen experiance. I tried to this year, only different. I remember walking in England, talking about it, and you took my picture for my self portrait. I remember the light that day, it was pink and you were sad I had black and white film because I guess I looked pretty in that light. I also wish you'd come to my Penn. camp. You would've liked the people. Interlochen reminds me of upnorth in general- lake Michigan where I used to talk to God, thinking him there if anywhere at all, and throw rocks with wishes written on them in charcoal (they came true sometimes), gelato ( like in the long side street in Venice, searching for raspberry) your family and mosquitoes and dewy wet in early morning with the mice- I watched you sleep as you dreamt about dinosaurs- stars at night a million times beautiful but too many bugs to sleep with them. We had gelato here but "funerals always make you think of other funerals" and gelato always amkes you think of other gelato- Lake Como- Venice- Petosky- Nubs Nob- Ah the gelatos I remember. Where were my first dippin dots? Pine Knob? Don't get me started on concerts, which always remind you of other concerts. I think it was cedar point, which I now connect to pink marbled stationary because of a dream I once had. I remember cedar point long ago, buying foam lizards on wires and my dad saying "my dogs are barking." I went on my frist rollercoaster then, the mine cart. Scared me so much I couldn't scream. Eating the grapefruit reminds me of DC, why? I want to go on another trip like that, I wish I was still on music, could go to NYC...but wishing does nothing and God doesn't read your rocks. Tulum (mayan city) is nice- old- hot- I wish I could explore the insides but as usual generations of vandalists have ruined it for everyone and put annoying barrier ropes in place. They get in the way of pictures. Look ugly. This place kind of reminds me of Europe (I think it's all the Europeans, who are extremely prone to near-nudity in this heat, and maybe also the Walls ice cream carts.) I saw a man, tall and thin and kind of old and he had a cane, and when he walked he wobbled like mad, but rhythmically, along with the music in the background, spanish marimba beat. I also saw a little girl with light up sandels- like LA lights, but sandels. Someday me and Brittany will find LA lights in our size. I made a minor-in-the-scheme-of-things-but-still-kind-of-important-decision today. No one will probably find out what, though- not for quite a while anyway. This depresses me. My father is annoying in a James Dalyish way. I feel in color . If you say "I'm feeling dusty jade green today" I'll understand perfectly. If love had a color, I just decided, it would be that of the afternoon sunlight, just before it begins to set- warm rich gold. The Mayans believed that the sun died at the end of every day. I hope my death will be that beautiful and calm, but I doubt it, death rarely is. I kind of know how you felt when we were skiing (but to a lesser degree, much less is at stake and practically no feelings involved) and I hate that you felt that way- I hate the way you feel now, can't stand the thought -is it still just a "crush" thing, I wonder. I want to ask but not to know. Remember when I aksed what you'd do if I jumped you? What if I had? What if we'd both let me, if you hadn't sent that email yet, or just let me anyway? What ifs are so useless yet so persistent and pesky and you have to wonder. What if I jumped you now? But I won't, don't worry, I don't have the guts, just like you wouldn't have the impulsiveness, the ability to abandon responsibility for even a second, even if you wanted to, and I don't know that you would want it anyway. I'm beginning to get burnt. Damn. My rubber bands have left lines. Oh well, I'm not planning on taking them off anyway. I don't have enough room for the next section on this page so I'll put in a picture. Or 2. I like Harvey Danger. Flagpole sitta. Reminds me of when Charlie and James were here, and it makes me happy to hear it, I don't know why. I really like the black and white pictures they give you with geocities. At some point I'll put them all on a page, so I can steal them. |
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