a few days in the life of Q.

note: i have exceeded my internet usage for the month. so... no photos for a few days, they take too long to upload.


____there is a cost to love John, absence. and distance.


i awoke. read Gol's email on my iphone. nodded a little. then felt a strange urge to play the third Gymnopedie. must be that same urge for consistency. something that wallows in its sameness sameness. something that is (and can be counted on to remain).

wednesday driving home, it's been a too-long too-difficult day.
(____- what, i can't hear you, dude, your phone never has reception
____- i said: what do we call these... episodes?
____- your mom calls them 'waves',
____- that's different, i'm talking about the...
____- yeah like the thunderstorm in your head thing right?
____- got it!
____- what?
____- the event is henceforth to be proclaimed a 'Short-Circuit'.
____- perfect. i love it.
____- ok cool i gotta get off the phone i'm driving
____- holla
____- outtie bro. ____)
three cars ahead, the lane to my right, is an old station wagon. sunset's just complete and the yellow streetlights seem brighter and more yellow and disturb my vision a little. i'm stopped at a traffic light i see something moving around. the silhouette of a small hand. it's a child, with a mop-full of hair. he's holding a small pink balloon that bops around. another item left at the beach when the families have gone home. bopping and being dragged out into an invincible darkness. i focus, on the balloon in pink glittery letters: It's a GIRL!!! oh wonderful i think. how wonderful indeed. i think of the new little princess. and of myself. and of Val(USA). and i think:

dear princess. welcome. You, me, and Val (USA), we declare our candidacy for being alive.


*___*___*

she resembles a cherub. with red hair that looks like some strange mineral mined out of a desert. full lips. mischeivous eyes. she's four years old and has too much energy for me. i'm already exhausted. i take her out to the back of our land, that over looks a man-made McLake. i can't lie, it's nearly sunset and beautiful. i'm calmer today. thursday has been better. playing with children always makes things much better. fishies! she says with a yelp. oh yes. there are little fish and they jump out the water from time to time. you look for a little while you'll see a couple. she stumbles around, looking at things that are interesting to her, and yelps and claps her hands and says fishies! i sit and stare at the shapes in the water. the threads of colours being born in the lake, and living their short life, and dying again to make the way for the darker hues.


*___*___*

there's a drunk girl with my arm around her. she's short so she's nestled in my chest. she's done laughing and telling me about her 31st birthday, and how wonderful it is. a second girl comes up, (i was dancing with her before). - you found my friend. - right on time it looks like. (the birthday girl giggles and smiles and with the smile still on her face, her red eyes kind of shut. she'll be back again in a second). - well. - well. I LOVE YOU! birthday girl screams it. puts her arms out and pulls other girl into our hug. now we're huddled like a little team. the two starbucks baristas and the regular customer. who found each other in a random club on a thursday. and had a little chat, and an intimate hug.
- i should get her home.
- yes.
- eventually.
- so, i'm currently in close physical proximity, and in a rather intimate pose with two very attractive women, so don't worry about me. you just cuddle in there, and take your time.
[she laughs]
- you're awesome. ... i got nothing else to say. you're just awesome. awesome.
(her repitions belie the notion of her as the 'responsible, sober friend').
- give me a goodnight kiss and go.
the first swoop crash lands. my glasses are in the way. she giggles as i try and release a hand without dropping birthday girl to take my glasses off. now then, round two. this time __oh wow __she has fuller lips than i noted, but with my eyes closed it's obvious. i had expected a terrible, beer tasting kiss. it's not. she kisses like me. too soft. like snow landing. most people find it a little boring. i like it. i like to save the rampage for later, but i like things to start like tinsel. like venetian lace. just little bites. mini-kisses. like the fingertips of two-icebergs finding each other. things always grow best from a slow first kiss.

bye then.


*___*___*

a pair of shoes sits on my 60's leather office chair. two shoes small enough to fit a four year old. in my car there's an obnoxious looking doll. saturday is all sun. i read a little. the Gymnopedie has long since ended. i make my bed. i surprise myself as i do it. i almost never make my bed - but when my bed is made (in advance of going to sleep at night), it feels like a wonderful ritual to get into bed. like something special. some rite. and it makes it a little easier too.

we who are scared to sleep salute you.
we who are worried of morning light salute you.

i have an afternoon movie and a late-session lined up. my phone has new names to call. there are things to read. jogs to be had. floors to be vacuumed. (just remember Orestes. run. runrunrun, and don't stop. if ever it gets quiet, that's when you worry. you just run like mad until you fall and in that case you won't care anymore)