thoughts(fragments): here. now. life.

untitled by brett walker


before anyone arrives it is so quiet.

and not quite so dark anymore, summer is near.
___(you know it is when the afternoon storms start,

___perfect bedlam from 3 till 5 everyday -

___from the 15th floor she waits for me to spot the lightning. )


___*___*___*

two days later, when i wake my stomach still hurts.
did you kill your abs at the gym? she wants to know. 
no.
then what?

between midnight and 9am i had so much sex i'm still sore.
uhm. oh. she says.
i look down.
___when i was lying naked on the carpet besides her front door i felt pretty grand.
___but in the sunlight ,
___when i'm not careful ,
___a little
______[something]


___*___*___*

i love the damn thing. i admit it.
it's green and purple and looks more like a tin-shed than a house.
in my head it's perfect. eventually it will be.
i believe in it. one of the few things left i believe in -
___(along with sunday brunch and the perfect everything of 4am)

white. everything white. my mother shakes her head. she wants me to be 'daring'. 'fun'.
i just want it to be fit for angels.
what will you do with all the trees? she asks.
get more.
more? 
many. more.
and then? 
sleep. shade and shadow. the hum of birds and infinity outside my windows. creeping in. if i'm not careful a vine will weave its way in and i'll be lost.found.forever.never.always.
dramatic much? 


___*___*___*

did you think about me? she asks, whispering into my ear hot breaths.
yes. [i'm not lying]
what did you think?
i'll show you.
[a sound that resembles a 'yes' and a pant]


___*___*___*

three months we've been speaking. in summary i have: an existential crisis because i think my life, my role in the world (write large) and my participation in history is meaningless and without significance; am emotionally walled off and unable to risk vulnerability; an neurotically ambitious out of a deficit in self-worth.

against all that... i'm more concerned with how much i want icecream (it's 7:50am). and sunshine. and to sit with my trees and listen to Bach. (if anything can fix those problems it must be that).


___*___*___*

i thought about you she says.
show me. 
show you what?
what did you do when you were thinking?
[i watch her bloom]


___*___*___*

i can't decide if i'm happy or the most miserable i've ever been.
and the problem is... (apart from i can't tell the difference)
that i think the answer is irrelevant.

i measure relevance in stillness.
and i haven't seen a straight surface in weeks.
every glass of water has ripples on its surface,
the empty ones sound like open windows.
___
___[the lightning is silent,
___i knew that, remember it when i see it,
___but never cease to be fascinated with it.
___silent lightning. silent snow.