I’m home and it hurts. Where you live, pressed against the side of my heart. It hurts in the prettiest possible way because next quarter we cannot share breath. We cannot share the same sun on our starving skin. We cannot become dizzy together in rooms above the city. We cannot dirty the soles of our shoes on old streets cutting through a lonely prairie. The sky will be lavender on that far shore and I will see the ocean and think of you. Loving you has spoiled everything else. I may have seen the world, but I have never seen anything like your dark eyes.


It feels so nice. I will die without you next quarter. I will die without your smile. I will die without your laugh. It feels so nice holding the moments inside me but at the same time they are edged with a heartbreaking sadness because no matter how sweet they are, they are the end. When we come together again it will be wonderful and the world will be ours once more. We will do all those things we promised. We will go away for a weekend to that little cabin on the lake. We’ll go backpacking through this wild and wonderful world. We will throw that party together. We’ll escape the cold for a house in Mexico. I’ll take you to India, you’ll take me home. Maybe somewhere in all those plans you’ll find the words for that promise once again, and somewhere along the way I’ll find it in me to actually say yes. And maybe sometime around then, in that nebulous and pretty little future, I will be able to love you and still love myself.

Sitting in the big windows. It’s black outside. All I can see is a complex gridding of lights. It’s hard to tell what belongs outside and what belongs in here. You can’t see the ground. It’s as if a lake washed in from the street and is lapping against the Indiana limestone of this building.

It’s not warm in here. My ankles are cold. All that’s in here is sound. Sound in my carrying me a little higher each time. Sound working like a thousand strings inside me, each pulling me somewhere else, all inside, all tangled, all yearning upwards. I’m in the windows but from outside I’m not in here and from in here there is no outside at all, only a watery infinity that is not enough to contain sound, that is too profound for silence.

There is nothing inside me but sound. My skin is thin, a fragile shell pulsing outward with the inconsistency of the bass. The bass is so strong my skin is splitting. Little fissures under pressure each time. And it is so unpredictable. You’ll never know when the bass will return. Just when I sigh, relax a little, reach for the breaks– to mend them– the bass is back, even more violent. So that my feet lift off the ground a little bit. The hair bounces off the back of my neck. And it all settles down as if nothing happened until the next time because there is nothing to shore me but the vast and wild sound inside.

Your eyes rest on me and your gaze burns away my flesh. I don’t know if you intend to do that. But it happens anyways and it hurts so much. It hurts so much it makes me giddy. I would do anything for that pain again.

Want to go home being here is too intense don’t know how to stand it am sitting in the room waiting waiting for everyone to be there before going downstairs  trying to drown in the violin it is deep losing air. Can’t breathe. Need to relax no one has this much power just four more minutes. Promise silence no one knows no one will know don’t tell keep secrets this is your life and you like it better than anyone. Everything will be alright just remember to breathe and when it is your time smile and be brilliant turn those eyes on be demure and secretive. Violin please carry this all away lose it all just a minute more and then you can go. And whatever you do don’t lose it it is all yours you are a woman of secrets not a soul needs to know.

I haven’t got the slightest clue how to behave tonight. I honestly do not know what I am going to do at dinner, what I am going to do afterwards, and what I am going to do at the party. It is fucking scary. It’s at the lip of losing control and it feels amazing and horrifying. But I would not want to be anywhere else right now. Not knowing is exhilarating.

It feels so wonderful that it hurts. My blood is expanding against the walls of my arteries until I can’t bear it anymore. All over my body my blood is alive, pushing against the walls. Every single artery, so that I can’t keep still, so that I don’t want to breathe because breathing makes it hurt even more. See what you’re doing to me, boy?

Warm Friday with lots of sun and a cruel wind.

Little circle of leather around the waist. Makes a statement, wish it were true, wonder if it’s not, is something wrong? Dissolving into little puddles of myself in a pretty and rounded little way. Little circle of braided leather to hold up and marvel at briefly.

Lots of words on a page, lots and lots of them makes me feel good.


I know exactly what it feels like. Don’t be scared!