Thursday, May 19, 2011

Closing Comments




The hardest part is just to end it.

Letting go, are you kidding? I won't do it.  I can't!

You shrug me off, you beat me with a stick and here I am! Still here!

Clinging to your side like a demented starfish.

Pathetic.


Why can't parting be sweet and cordial, a
handshake, maybe a neutral hug.
A salute!





Sorry, no.
There's second guessing, there's tears, heartache, SOUL-ache.  Violence, EMOTION.
It's very messy.
Isn't there a better way?








I long for a time wherein I can take leave of people and things without a tear, without a thought!




I will make my heart as to a stone; I will fix my brain towards the future


Transitions will become effortless.  You will soon mean nothing to me!!

Does that mean I can't remember your laugh?               Right.
Your words, your neck, the way you loved me?           Yes, all of that, gone.

Our fort in the woods?            Gone.

That kite that you flew?         Gone.

fffffffewwwww.   it all blew away in a dandelion puff.

You.  Me.  Us.

Life will be so much easier now.  Lighter.  More.....bland.





I take it back, I want it back!

I don't like that alternative,
I'm not a robot!
I guess my heart, maybe yours too, was just created with pockets of pain.
I will choose Art to fill those spaces.

 I am the sum of all of us.
You existed for me, you were real.
You've kept me here, waited for me,
and yes,  left me.

And maybe memories are the consolation prize, flipping through a pack of many sweet memories.

 I really want something more than a big stuffed dog after all of this.

*******************************************



Thanks for reading ALL ABOUT US,
goodbye!


I'm working on my website:
HOPELESS WEALTH,  check it out


-Kirsten

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Part 2 Just she and she

The mailman awoke to find him self a 6 month inhabitant of the lonely house.
Yes, clothes were in the corner and his razor was in the medicine chest.

(When we last saw him, he was being carried away by the solitary sisters, She and she. )


He awoke this day to find his face stuck to his pillow, he had been crying in his sleep again!


He slept with one sister while desiring the other.
Her claim on him by the hour  deepened, till he thought he might well resign himself to never obtaining the object of his love.
Until the dream again this morning.

(When we last saw him, the mailman was thoroughly entranced by the beauty of She whilst becoming appalled at her cruelty; and upon meeting her sister, falling in love with that homely spirit, all despite her repellent visage.)

So the dream:
a watery quality, a rebirth, some pain, a scream and then beautiful, absolute peace and happiness!
This last is what made him weep and sop his pillow.


He took the qualities of his dream, locked himself in his newly appointed "office";

(most recently the sister's reading nook cupboard, decorated with low lights and perfumed air.)

he rolled up his sleeves, called the post office, picked up his sketch book and pencil and started to work.


He sketched and measured for days, it seemed like, while the eager and the sullen sister crowded by the closed door. No sound could they hear, but an occasional crinkling of paper and an anguished cry, 
"Not quite right, by god!"


When he finally emerged, he had his plans grasped his his hand.  His hair was tousled and shot with white where previously had been raven.  He smelled.

"I will make you whole! I will use these brilliant plans to create a whole woman, a woman made of everything good and desirable! I can do it!"


And because they loved him each in her own way, She and she followed the mailman back into the reading nook.  He locked the door.


He severed and attached and cut and sewed.  At last he and she were done.  
There were no longer two sisters.


The creature he produced could no longer move on it's own.  It sat and stared languidly at it's own reflection, and was only dissuaded from this pursuit by insistent closeness with another.  It would press itself to him as if it could press itself through, through his heart.  He would peel her off of him and place her again in front of her glass.


And the skin was strange. Not....human.  It didn't take.
No longer beautiful or ugly. Somehow the human-ness, the most important part,  that's what was missing.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Just She and She part 1

PART ONE
There once were two sisters.
One was tall,  beautiful, vain and selfish.
The other was short, Ugly and as loving as could be.

They lived together in harmony in a lonely house
provided for them by their long dead parents.
Indeed the girls had lived alone for so long,
and worked in concert so successfully,
that they came to believe it had always been this way,
and always would be. Forever and forever, amen.

Just She and she.







(Did they not know that everything in nature grows old and dies?
No.
Did they not know that eventually only one would be left to
darn the socks and boil the water?
No. )




One day a mailman came to the door.

(He was new on the route, and didn't know
the sisters had expressed a "dislike" for the local
mail service.  In a series of  escalating letters
addressed to the Postmistress of their town
the sisters demanded an immediate end to all personal mail service,
 or they would, they vowed prettily,  have to "fuck shit up".
Thus their front door mail service was hastily discontinued.)

so one day a mailman came to the door, bearing the holy fruit
of direct mailing, the VAL-PAK.  He wondered idly why no other mail
was marked for this address, but an idle quickly passes
when one is confronted with a beautiful woman.
Yes it was She, and She was pissed.

We receive no mail!  She hissed at the public servant.
He could only stare, slightly dazed, at her heroic form.
She seemed to give off light in soft waves, he was completely taken in.
Then She spoke: Are you stupid? Can you talk?
He tried to thrust the VALPAK at her but She reached out and karate chopped his forearm,
right on the bone.
OUCH!
He staggered  back and completed his introduction by thudding backwards
down the steps and landing in the dirt
as she came through the door.
she, pulsing with sweet maternal concern whilst sucking the waves of local beauty magnetically into  her destroyed looks.
Oh you!  to her sister.  Let me help you, I'm so sorry She's so mean.
He let her help him up and
 her hand, so soft and warm and reassuring,
but all he wanted to do was stare into Her face!
Stare into Her eyes!
Come in, she said, I'll help you clean up

And like a sleeping puppy he was gently carried away,
into the lonely house.

end of Part 1

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Guest

I got home the other day and found a balloon in the yard.  




It was strange; no one in the neighborhood had balloons out or anything, where did it come from?

(it made me especially nervous because you know that  60's tv show the Prisoner?  Remember "Rover" the menacing rolling weather balloon that could smother a man with a heartless shriek/groan?)

It was not a very festive balloon.  It was like "Rover"'s little brother!



The cats didn't really care about it, Fuzz was too preoccupied with his abscesses. 

I admit i kind of freaked out when it tried to go inside the house, fuck it was weird!


But then it just rolled on by.......

and lodged itself snuggly behind the barbeque.




I gave up watching it when it didn't move for a long time, but i still looked at it from the window.  
From inside.  Every now and then.

It's still out there, in case you're wondering.  That stupid balloon,  it's been here a month. 
 It's starting to sink in on itself,  just beginning to wrinkle and deflate.  But it's still rolling around! I can't stand it.
  But i don't have the guts to approach it.  
So we co exist, not asking much of each other.  

I definitely don't let it come inside the house!



And i do feel a little guilty for wanting it to die, I'm literally salivating thinking about stomping on it or poking it with a pin.  Do you think it can tell?



SSSHHHHH! Here it comes.....................




**************************************************************

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Mother-To-Be

She walked right up to him standing at the counter and said, "I want to have your baby."

"Wwwwwhat?" he asked.  He was her daily barista, but they had never had this conversation before.  This seemed a little...personal.

"Did you really not hear me? Or are you asking me to explain myself."

"I...I heard you but I guess I don't know if that's a joke or not."

"It's not."

"Oh.  Oh.  Why me?"


"Why not? It's kind of  a complicated story that I'd rather not get into, right now," she jerked her raincoat out from under the foot of the customer behind her in line.  Imagine standing on somebody's coat sleeve!
"But suffice it to say that you seem to be intelligent, decent looking and able to count back my change.  And I need to have a baby."

"Why?"

"Never mind WHY, if you're interested we can have that conversation at a later date."
She stopped suddenly, turning to glare at the line forming behind her.

"But to have a baby? That means," he leaned over to whisper, "we have to have sex."

"Not necessarily."

"But I still don't get 'why me'? We barely know each other.  We DON'T know each other."

"So? You see me every day.  I'm a person just like you.  Older....But do I seem intelligent? Attractive?  Anyway none of that  matters because you don't have to LIKE me to impregnate me."

"True," he said thoughtfully, stroking his civil war hero style facial hair with both hands.

"So? Will you think about it?  Here's my card, text me at this number during the week, weekends just call the cell."  Turning around:   EXCUSE ME BUT DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WAIT UNTIL I HAVE ORDERED MY COFFEE THANK YOU  Turning back: "I'll even take you dinner, your choice."

He held the card in this left hand and still stroking, considered her thoughtfully and thoroughly.

"If I wanted to go somewhere really expensive, that'd still be cool?"


"Yes, of course.  And I'd like a triple vanilla soy dark chocolate iced latte. To go."

He didn't move.  Was he so fond of her card that he couldn't take the order? He stared at it, forehead tense.

"Is that your name?"

"Yes."


(And that exchange was the most intimate thing that had ever happened to either of them.)

"Are you, interested? May I ask?"

No answer.

She turned, he jumped to make the beverage, leaving the cashier to deal with the mother to be.












                                           ***********************************

Thursday, May 5, 2011

A Sign



I was driving across the bridge as the clock said 11:59. 
 It was almost midnight, I'm not even kidding.
How exciting is that?!


I thought, Oh my god, when I get up to the peak of this bridge, it will be midnight, and some portent will for sure reveal itself  to me.  In a big way.


So I started looking for signs, straining for something, you know? The time, the time!


The orange industrial lights blinded me from the north, the toxic river lulled me to the south.


But nothing.  Not one fucking sign of any kind.


I thought, what a dreary world this is, this is a pretty sad place where magical things don't really happen, no one ever really tells us the way.
Then.  It.
at 12:03
(I know because I checked!)
at 12:03, a meteor fell from the sky through the hood of my car, flipping me over several times thereby gaining the momentum for my car that I still owed 15,000.00 and myself  to be flung over the guard rail,  off the bridge and into the far-flung spring cold Duwamish below.  


No, I didn't "live".  

I "live" under the bridge where it's safe.  Not on the top. Some ghosts aren't very nice and there's a lot around here. 
 I spend most of all of my time sitting here at the peak of the bridge, watching the cars run to and fro.  Remember those moments, I want to tell you.  Your hands on the wheel, your mind in the world.  The  road running so fast underneath you.  The wide sky above you.


But the wind carries my voice so I make no sound at all.
At all.

***********************************************

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Geologic Events



Come here-  she said, gesturing with one finger.

He refused to move.
No.  he said.  YOU come HERE.

So she went.  They kissed.

She sat on the bed.
 I actually wish you'd leave, she said as she stared at the floor.

Sorry, it's not my fault you're always confused.  He lit a cigarette and flicked ashes on the floor.  Stupid rug, you know i've always hated this rug.

So are you leaving she asked





I'll let you touch my breasts if you leave.

He didn't know what to do.
Time stopped and the glaciers melted as he contemplated his options.

He noticed the plastic parrot hanging against the curtain, the color of
the wall, the cobweb in the corner.
The color of her hair, the mole in the corner of her mouth.

Stars exploded and babies were born.  They grew old and died.

He left.



**********************************

Monday, May 2, 2011

the Birthday

It was certainly shaping up to be a wonderful evening.
We were celebrating H.'s  birthday!
Everyone was there, ready to have a good time.
As H. went to blow out her "candle on the mousse" strange things started to happen....
Well the devil himself showed up for one thing.  With his I phone!
And then H. started looking at B. in a very suspicious fashion.
B. himself seemed  a little uncomfortable.
 H. still hadn't made her wish.  I prayed that with the wish she would return us all to sanity.
But after taking a bite of the mousse I felt even more disoriented.
Later we went dancing. I tore up the floor!
I ended up at home with no remembrance of how I got there.
It was a really fun birthday!