Holiday.

You're only happy
when you're doing
the thing.

And I'm
doing the thing.

Where are you?

In one phone call

And since cookies crumble,
milk spills,
flowers die,
and dreams defer,
as it turns out, I will no longer be listening to Duke Ellington.

Through some strange shift in the wind,
misdirection from directors,
lack of productivity from producers,
my time in the land of Mr. Ellington has been cut short.

This is clearly a sign from a higher, more intelligent, power that this situation was not going to bolster my career, despite what working for free in what was quickly becoming creative squalor might do for me kareer (sp?).

Things pass and things change.
Even in a sea of nothingness, there still has to be something new and unseen just around the corner. I’m going to go find it on my next dive.

Does anyone want to go to the beach?

Duke

There is a new exercise regime I’m taking part in. It comes out of our usual boredom, frustration, judgment, depression, anger (oh, too many complaints)…

This is not stemming from one of those days where I must hurry home, shimmy down these panties, unhook this bra, and pour myself a tall, albeit respectable, glass of cool, clear Remy Martin featuring two ice cubes and one bendy straw. Although the origins of this regime are routed in something similar…

I have, simply, grown tired. Tired of irreverence. Tired of vanity. As I discovered the other day, walking through Bloomingdales, tired of shopping. Tired of “getting to know you”. Tired of having to let you go. Tired of boredom. Tired of letting things I ultimately have no control over frustrate me.

The feeling you get inside is amazing when you let all of that go. Doors begin to open. Renovations are no longer needed.

And now I can listen to Duke Ellington all day long.

The wrong time of year.

Should old acquaintance be forgot?

I'm sorry for thinking about it during only the first quarter of the year. It is a very important question though. I'm not even really questioning it right now. I know that I want to, shall we say.... "down-size", but I AM going to need at least one of them to stay behind and hold me.

Sometimes I hope it's him.
There are times when I think she could be the one.

But I've been waking up from dreams recently, before the song is even finished, and I can feel the arms still wrapped around me.

Stretch first. Spot front. And NEVER wear mauve at a ball.

Who has something to say?

Does anyone have ANYTHING to say?

Bore me.
Excite me.
Read me.
Fuck me.
Buy me something nice.

I promise I'll make it up to you.

Now, since all of you seem to bore me
(or maybe you've just grown tired of me),
I guess I'll write it down.
I guess I'll save that feeling.
I guess I'll put it all together.

Someday I'll bring the house to half
and perform if all for you.

Until then,
I hope you/we find the
piece/peace/energy
I think is missing.

That quiet bitch in the corner.

I had a conversation today that,
had it been overheard by passersby,
could have been mistaken as simple
bitching and complaining.

Sometimes, we do that.

I had a conversation today that,
had I stopped to examine why we were discussing
what we were discussing,
well,
it may have reminded me of you.

I complained that you were missing.
I complained that you were late.
I realized that our first "fight" would,
strangely,
have to be about
your whereabouts.

And then,
there she is,
Happy.
Sitting in her corner.
She has nothing to say.

If
and When
you are truly like her,
you'll have nothing to
complain about.

Happy doesn't have
too much to say.

I just listened to The Last Time I Saw Richard for the first time in a long time

It is one month later
and I have just woken up
from that very same evening
with you.

It is one week later
and I have realized how hard
someone like you must
have it.

Surrounded, on the periphery,
by irreverence
and vanity,
I say simply,
“Woe is you.”

Is anyone else as cold as you are?...I mean "I am".

I'm searching for warmth.
Sometimes, the warmth
of your palm
face down on top
of the back of my hand.
Sometimes, for my toes
as they slide from
underneath my quilt.
Often, in the conversations
between friends.
Always, if I open my heart
with the intent
of letting you in.

I'm searching for warmth
and not only because
it is cold.

A winter is a wonderful
time for a dinner
with you.

I just read this for the first time today and I found it so...well...warming. It's always interesting to me the things you find, that you've had in your possession all along, which you've chosen to ignore, that "show up" someday, and they change the way you've been seeing things for so long.

I hope tomorrow goes well. The first day without was simple and perfect.