Echo

Halfway between the gutter…and…the stars…

every day that i walk into physical therapy, i’m a different person. i know, because i calculate that.

naughty naughty naughty with the lesbians. when they look at me, i know they want to know. it’s in their eyes. and i just won’t give it to them. i pretend i’m not aware. but i know, given enough time, it will become their obsession. It’s always so innocent at first.

it happens. people don’t meet me. they fall into me. and it’s a thing that gets out of control. it feels immoral to allow people to get close to me, knowing what can happen.

in so many aspects of my life, i let my morals and principles dictate. it has been the only thing that tames me. but i’ve often wondered, what would happen if i went all the way?

i called a boy named dominic. but when we met, he introduced himself as drew.

“oh, is drew your real name?” i asked.

“no, my real name’s dominic. but most people call me drew.”

“okay,” i said, but to be honest, i didn’t know what to call him.

i’d brought him a gift, as a sign of good will. hey, we were meeting for the first time, why not.

when we said goodbye, he called me back. “hey, what about this?”

he’d looked a little punch drunk the whole time we’d talked, like he didn’t know what to make of me. maybe he thought i was trying to sell him something?

“it’s a gift. a sign of good will,” i said.

“oh wow.” he was actually surprised. i said goodbye, closing the door.

Are you alone for a reason, or are you lonely for a reason?

“Be careful,” he told me.

“Why?” I asked. Sometimes goodbye looms larger when it hasn’t been said.

“Many men will love you. But few will have the strength to honor you.” His dark eyes glowed–warm, dizzying, kind. I ached for home.

“This is a hard thing for a man to have to admit to himself,” he said.

Under the glow of the streetlight, the gentle breathing of the ocean behind us, we memorized every line, shadow and curve. The secret heartbeat.

He kissed me softly on the cheek, with feeling, with apology, our bodies the closest they had ever been.

And with that, the night swallowed us, swallowed our story.  By morning break, we would each find ourselves drifting alone once again on an ocean of distant ships, nothing real except all that exists above, all that keeps us afloat below, and a belief that at the end of the horizon, will be someone who finds within us the answer to their own personal myth.

I was just pondering this concept last night while thinking about how I came to my understanding…through ants, and this one contradicting visual image that I used to always see in my mind as a kid, when I thought about what the universe was (a drop of water emerging from a faucet, and despite their being an entire universe outside of it, inside, was just as infinite and expansive of a universe. I would look inside the water and soon would see that infinity of all outside the drop was also contained within the drop, until I would lose my grip and the line between inside and outside, what is large and what is small, would become very thin). Then last night, the lyrical poet sent me this link, but I didn’t open it until now since I was so deep in pondering. I think the fact that so many creatives intuitively perceive the same thing is clear evidence that it’s real.

“We are the story we tell ourselves. In this universe, in this existence, where we live with this duality of whether we exist or not and who are we, the story we tell ourselves are the stories that define the potentialities of our existence…a story is the relationship that you develop between who you are or who you potentially are, and the infinite world. And that’s our mythology…a person without a story, does not exist.”

Are you enjoying your addiction?

Who inspires you?

You:

Me: Trinity from the Matrix, Angelina Jolie. The version of me that makes giant beasts of men follow without question, and quiver under my touch.

3 Things You Believe In

You:

Me: Light, dark, and everything in between.

What is your greatest fear?

You:

Me: I’m afraid to let people know my greatest fear, in case they use it against me. But I will say my 2nd greatest fear is for someone to break into my car and take a shit in it. Because I’m telling you, if that ever happened, I will set my car on fire.

If I met you in the dark…

You:

Me: You are having either a very good night or a very bad night. Either way, you won’t forget.

Quileute mythology

Lichen.

Wila is a pretty name.

How to know if you’re a real vampire.

for the full moon, i’m going on a trip.

Just overheard an interview with someone related to the Twilight series who said, “Stephie’s world is not as imagined as you may think.”

A few days ago, I overheard some people talking about Forks. They recommended I visit.

I’m not into Twilight, but I’m interested in what’s real in it.

It was suggested I go to Forks.