also, i had a moment of déjà vu the other night, sitting in someone's apartment. these moments for me are spatially motivated and reminiscent of past dreams. i don't remember many of my dreams (or if i remember them, they are often remembered in pieces) yet at times, i have been able to recall specific dreams that i have had in the past that bring moments of déjà vu when i see a particular space.

the other night, it was the position of bodies in the particular space that brought this remembrance, and for a moment, i could recall the feeling of a dream i had once had... and then the moment was gone. as it always goes.

so, i realized why i was happy....

even after i do everything in my capability to unconsciously ruin a situation, there is still a sliver of possibility that something not-bad will come from it.

must be the grace of the universe, smiling on me.

do i unconsciously sabotage my own happiness?

i think the answer is unequivocally yes. yes, i must. what else explains it all?

regardless, i'm happy. not sure how that worked out this time.

insight from a friend. partly hers, partly mine...
when lives are intertwined and then separated, you're going to feel a little unraveled.

i write this as the full eclipse is about to begin. i stepped outside when the moon began to 'enter' the umbra, but there were too many lights. so i got in my car and drove to the edge of town, but by the time i got there i realized it wasn't so important. so here i am in my apartment, sitting on my kitchen counter with my computer because i can see the moon in the window in front of me. i realize the thoughts i'm about to share aren't similar to those i usually relate. i mean, where is my entry on cuba, or kosovo, or even the wisconsin results? but in this moment, this seems important.

the moon is conquered in my mind, as a symbol, and i so desperately want to cling to her as an emblem of cyclical life, of beauty and stability and comfort. at times i can manage something of this, and yet usually i cannot separate her from the images of men (not people, but men) claiming to conquer her, laying claim to her as if she can be owned.

as i drove tonight, she brought to mind so many memories of times in the past: the first time i saw the northern lights, when j wooed me by making us hot chocolate and taking me to an open field to see a meteor shower, stopping on a country road with s and seeing the stars against the windshield, driving with k on the backroads at home so we could talk. and all of these memories brought me back to the earth, not to the stars.

when i got back to my apartment, i looked at the moon again, not even disappearing, just slipping out of the light, and i saw orion, or rather, orion's belt situated within a system of stars called orion, pointing to the andromeda galaxy, and this sight brings me back to the place i grew up, standing in my driveway, in pain or in love, sometimes simultaneously, sometimes love with such joy and passion i could burst even now from the memories, standing by s's car, us kissing before s drove off into the distance and me left standing there, love shooting through me, and orion's belt pointing the way to galaxies beyond in the eastsoutheastern sky, traveling westward as night poured on.

the moon is almost dark now, just a tiny sliver of light and the rest in shadow. this is unconditional love, drawing me back to a place and people, not romanticizing it to the extent that i forget the pain, but beyond me, stretching me forward to memory.

i close here as the moon slips fully into the umbra, to emerge again soon as she/i/we continue in our paths.

wow, life can be confusing.

and the less i seek my source for some definitive.....

tonight i saw chris pureka.

tonight i saw the diving bell and the butterfly.

tonight i spent three hours in my car (11:46pm-2:46am) and drove only 3.49 miles.

tonight was a great night.

in the end, does it really matter?

outside tonight, i smelled the air. it's different here. fresh and crisp.

the stars are bright, clear points of light in the sky.

the moon, brilliant.

the earth, solid.

bittersweet.

it snowed today.

i left my apartment tonight for a bit - dug out my car and then someone helped me get out of the driveway... and it was beautiful. may sound strange to some of you, but i enjoyed clearing the inches of snow off my car. i could have kept doing that for an hour. 27 degrees fahrenheit. perfect.

the snow was falling again, lightly, by the time i got back. i walked slowly from my car toward my apartment, sad that it wasn't a longer walk. when i got to the front, i stood there, snow falling, looking out on the world. it was so peaceful. i'm tempted to type that i haven't felt that peaceful in a long time, but i don't want anyone to think that has anything to do with my life this fall. it surpasses mere personal-historical events. goes deeper than that. it's how i feel standing in the summer rain. a feeling that can't be recreated at will. something intangible. something rich.

so when i say that it was peaceful, i mean that it was deeper than soul-deep. wider than this place. broader than this moment. more than myself.

mercury in my arteries
winding with lead
to my head, pinpricks of metal, twinge
in the endings
of my nerves, the curve of copper
reigning occipital,
critical mass of platinum,
cerebrum crisp,
wisps of gold in my corpus callosum:

i arose as flesh, now turning metallic.

has anyone ever heard the song "bye, bye love"?

it's playing right now at the coffee house where i'm working on some things.

the backup singers are vamping "i think i'm gonna die" as the song fades out.

the song is just so upbeat, you have to laugh.

the other day, i told a friend that it's really fun to crush on someone, even when it's just a stupid little crush.

today i changed my mind. :-)

ok. so maybe i invested too much of my identity in a relationship, even when i am not a big fan of identifying myself in relation to my sexuality or even gender, besides to say that i'm queer, but only queer insofar as it describes me but does not become me. to queer. to unfix. i'll claim that one, only tentatively.
it was a good lesson, to be sure. and it's opened up so many new and fascinating questions.