Echo

i woke up to see the clock read:

11:22

i woke up because in my dreamspace i kept saying:

u-n-i-v-e-r-s-a-l
if you need more time, add space.
if you need more space, add time.

the repetition of this chant dragged me to the surface.

and drifting in from somewhere deep in the echoes of my head:

i get the news i need on the weather report…

hello, scorpio. i’ve been waiting a long time for you.

strangers
at each am are different

1am, set directions
2am, make decisions
3am, unmasking.
4am, what is real?
5am, the fracture
6am, dawn.
7am, the present blends into memory
8am, gone.

12am stands alone.

genre: fantasy
location: 24 hour diner
object: stretcher

free associate.

there was a period of my life when i was an insomniac. it was a very unhappy period of my life.

i would periodically travel between los angeles and fremont. the anguish always found me, tinging the edges of my periphery with something terrifying and unexpected. it waited for me to let my guard down.

i was always looking for public places where i could sit and be alone. i could never be more alone than in a public place, with people engaged in their own worlds, having no idea of the outsider in the room. these times were my salvation. to be alone in my own home, the silence had eyes. the silence had teeth. behind every door, a shadow. its echoes roared through me, and as always, that which loomed at the edge of my vision. the only escape was to disappear inside the outside world.

one night, i went to the local denny’s.

denny’s, the local shit diner. 24 hours but the people working there are so heavy, you can almost see the weight of life physically bend their body into resigned forms. there was one particular waitress with dark, leathery skin and curly hair. sometimes, i wondered when she was alone, if she’d ever raised her head towards the sky and wished for an end. she looked like she would give anything in the world just to rest.

i went in after midnight, after hours at the gym until closing didn’t wear me down. i was so tired but my body and mind constantly buzzing, like the giant power lines loping over our streets we’d grown up with (some say they whispered cancer into our ears), the persistence of their noise overpowering the night landscapes. i’d brought a deck of cards and a notebook. i ordered a cup of coffee from the server, a tired guy with black hair and a slight hunch, somewhere in his 20’s.

i took all the face cards out of the deck leaving only the numerical cards. for the next 2 hours, i shuffled them and turned them over one by one, trying to project the upcoming cards. i hoped to be more accurate than statistically probable. i hoped to find a way to see, to connect the unknown to the known. outside of my server asking me what i was doing with the cards, everyone left me alone. everyone has their own problems.

by 3am, it was just the manager, my server and a cook out back in the kitchen. everyone looked dazed from exhaustion. i could barely keep my head up–it was echoing so badly it made me dizzy, and i was just sitting there, waiting. waiting for something to happen, anything. anything that might shake us out of this bottomless world that lacked imagination.

i have a message for overseas.

if we should ever meet again, remind me of the question i had for you in october 09.

subject: running

the fundamentals of being

step one

find the echoes of silence
listen to what they say

Results of Rd 1 of the writing contest in. I’m in 2nd. I like this position. I’m not the person who likes the early lead. I like to come from behind.

I’m thinking about the scenes in Ben Button when he meets up late night with that older woman for tea. That movie was just incredibly well written, very different from the F. Scott Fitzgerald short. I was mistaken though, it was written by Eric Roth who wrote Ali and Munich, not David Benioff, who wrote Kite Runner and 11th Hour, and whom I’m not a big fan of.

Link to Ben Button script.

use triangles. they help you gain perspective on things.

i understand now why the number 3 is seattle’s number. the people here are very obsessed with location–pinpointing a person on whatever grid they deem important. that’s why people want to know where you’re from, what you do and where you live. they are triangulating your position on an internal map. i think that’s why i’ve been scrambling them a little. they don’t know where to put me so i’m an anomaly. i also keep moving my points.

did you know my address is made up of a triad of 3’s to make a balanced 9? symbolically, imagine 3 pool balls making a triangle. the most powerful thing i’ve got is a 12th house venus in cancer, which is the source of my karmic tie to the depth. it has always been a great source of pain but strength. a 12th house venus means that love comes to you in karmic ties, and many times, you’re working something from the past out. love is spiritual. it is the placement of secret relationships and affairs. in cancer, it brings about deep emotional cycles and a driving maternal need to take care of and sacrifice for loved ones. one manifestation, you carry on in a secret affair where you never win with someone already attached. another, you love silently from a distance because for whatever reason, you can never get close. it’s a tough placement. i’ve manifested it by letting it make my spirit stronger while not manifesting it in any way that compromises my spirit. by being philosophical about it, i gain wisdom. in seattle, a city that uses 12 to represent its 3-ness, i wonder if i am here to finally face the 12th house.

i am prepared to live a solitary, contemplative life without a partner, rather than compromise in a relationship with someone i couldn’t be with in every way. i am willing to do karmic work if that’s what the 12th house wants to send me, disguised as love. i am content to sit in the 12th house, and be one with its storms. but i will not stop believing that these are just the obstacles that are necessary on my way to finding something greater.

don’t lose track of linear time but break away from it. translate time into distance, space, depth. and then you can see that while objects are connected by time, sometimes you can reach for them through space, which is just another dimension of time. if you are trying to observe the impact of the illusion of time, then you have to reach and find reflective objects outside of the linear projection. i was always good at memory match games–find the two objects that match by flipping over cards. so i found that if i was good about remembering things, i would recognize synchronicities. once you have a synchronicity, then you already have two points with which to triangulate a perception outside of the linear timeline.

i have always said the one thing humans did that released themselves was break the time-space dependency with transportation. i always use ants. an ant can walk in a straight line at its top speed for the entire length of its life, but it can only go so far before it dies. a human is the same. but once the species discovered transportation, we broke our maximum distance-time correlation. we are slowly understanding how we can change our relationship with time. time is a force. but so are we. we are learning how to work with it. the human world is about to get bigger.

one thing you should know about me.

i come from a line of powerful women generationally becoming conscious of itself.

be bold, be bold, but humble.

the balance of seasons.

earth and air

fire within water.

power comes from knowing water.

always let the moon lead.

when it is time to move forward, move forward.

when it is time to be still, be still.

when it is time to confront, let everything that is not real fall away, and reach only for the heart.

eternally

white becomes black, black becomes white.

until it doesn’t.

what matters is intention.

actions will always scatter where they fall.

Michelle Yeoh reminds me of Future Me. :D

on sunday i kept running into these two guys while walking around a nearby town. we started talking and they asked me what i was working on.

i said a dating field book for women based on the art of war.

the more serious one laughed and said he would be interested in reading that.

i told him i didn’t know…”do you have a magical vagina?”

“um, sadly i do not,” he said. “but i’m interested in learning more about it.”

Tonight’s writing was brought to you by:

The Magical V

Respect It or Fuck Off

I can see the light come peering through the sky in my mind
Closing people come in but also lying on the floor
I would hold you in my arms until we both are home
I would hold you in my arms until we both are all alone

– Moby

favorite word today.

diametrically