phone skeletons..

"You are quite resourceful indeed..love you and miss you.."

Tell me again that this isn't real. That there's past and present and that's just that.

A ghost letter, dated 2004, finds me for the forth time this year. No, it isn't a tear-stained keepsake I hold in some precious box. Its a message on my phone that pops up with a certain "zing" assigned to its sender. He isn't writing it. He isn't sending it. Its NOT in my inbox, but it haunts my phone, a message trapped in time, set on a a perpetual re-send by a force I dare not question, for its hardly the first time past comes back for me..lures me into comforts of quiet reminiscence and humbling reflections.."Love you and miss you"..long gone. Past, with its monuments and ruins and voices, refuses to play dead. It distorts images, creates vivid dreams and resurrects a love letter out of the blue. Magic.

Miss Veronika, 5 years old yesterday, with her present

summer, SPB

Cartie-Bresson

I haven't enjoyed an art exhibit so much in a long time. Behold the Master, timeless, classic. You got to really love life to capture so much of it in one shot. Now THIS was a life worth living, amazing people, places, moments..And no photoshop, no trickery, nothing staged. Very powerful. Very real. Loved it !!

despare

I need a timeout..

time's gone mad again

no air to breathe

no peace

I dream of silence as if it is a taboo

What has become of my world ?

It is reduced to a dark

dusty closet..

this is not my life.

will it ever be ?..

I'm drunk as can be and there are two hamsters fucking in front of me..DT ??

Places

I have been there on my trip to Curacao. Its the oldest temple on the islands. Sand-covered floors, cool and breezy in mid-day Caribbean heat. It stole my heart. I felt such peace within these walls I never wanted to leave..Maybe its the whole out-of-place vibe of an old synagogue in a middle of a catholic tropical island that I was so drawn to. I just love misfits of all sorts -- people,  dwellings..The randomness of beauty and its utter disregard for time and place.

Carroll-ish, in SF

Istanbul

I have a friend there..I wish I could just descend in any random place and spend a day..just point at a map and go. Have lunch with her in Istanbul. Then off to Buenos Aires for a siesta. Then go feed pigeons in Verona..maybe sit on a roof watching sunset over Madrid. See trains deport from Lisbon. Home is where you are.

Hallmark moment

Weekend

1 Friday night:

-You know you're really really tired when you fall asleep during a brow WAX..in a totally Korean salon named "Shalom".

-Make up sex can be worth the most viscious fight the night before. Therefore, even if your life seems to be over at the moment, stay well groomed just in case.

2. Saturday night:

-Double Door. Arbenina. 100 %. Cuts to the bone, raw, not a shot missed. A sniper indeed. Felt awoken in a hot sweaty crowd, in black light, words of love pounded into my racing mind, slowly melted in my man's arms. I'm good for a few years now, I can live off of that.

-Traditionally, bumped into 2nd ex-husband. Last encounter - vacation in Cancun, prior to that - Zemfira. Traditionally, turned our backs to each other. Traditionally had to subdue my BF to not beat his ass up for no good reason. Left early just in case..

3. Sunday night:

-nada. a day in bed. pure bliss.

ohh....

Seeing dead people, getting worse..

My ever so rare outings to the city these days are getting bizarre..having lived here for 20 years I've just discovered an underground city downtown..a ped way linking hotels and upscale highrises, stores, restaurants, businesses. It blew my mind ! Not so much a mere fact of its existence but its surreal emptiness underneath all the heat and hustle and bustle, there was no one there..Vast, empty spaces, dark and cool..the entry way strait out of "Stalker" followed by what looked like an abandoned Hotel California..or Titanic, complete with dusty grand foyer and an open bar, no people in sight.
When I finally got out of there I was passed by a creature so eery I was afraid to photograph it..Mind you, it was 100 degrees outside, scorching, blinding city sun and there she was, a young woman all dressed in black, coat, boots, and a top hat, brim covering eyes so one could only see her smile, ear to ear, this dead frozen grin..she walked back and forth, aimlessly, not a muscle twitching in her face, a doll face..Then there was a bunch of butt-naked gay men all looking like the Village People, spilling out of some dungeon..They were delightful and the girl disappeared somewhere in tunnels, to my great relief.


All night I felt her presence though, and not just hers. Some day this will probably be me, a lost ghost with some unfinished business wandering city streets..no peace..judging by this random-fired shot on the go, it will look like this..

Majestic Star, weekend, part one

1. Gary, Indiana is a sad, sad place. Drab, polluted, washed-out stinky hole of a waste land. Depressing.
2. Local casino turned out to be a time capsule of American blue-collar mid-west circa my first years here..the food , the hair, the denim..oh my. Reminded me of a bargain chain "Venture", even smelled like it, of plastic and vending machines..appropriately so, I must admit..a musty old ash-tray with glitter on top..
3. You know God is trying to stop you from going to a Casino when you get lost 3 times -- in gridlock, when GPS insists you go over a bridge thats been up in the air forever to let some endless gargo through..you then  hit a dead end with detour that takes you to projects where a big fat BLACK cat SLOWLY crosses the road as you break at the stop sign..In case you missed the first 10 cues..just so its clear.
4. You know you are in hell when you finally get there and your mother-in-law grabs you by the hand, sits your ass next to her at a penny slot machine and for an hour goes "here, darling, you push this button, when I tell ya.." And you're sober. On an upside, I have beeng promoted to a saint by her son..the things we do for love..
5. Lake Shore Drive on the way back never looked so good..

The Lake

Cats

comfort

Mid-day

Ran out of the office mid-day to get some air/run errands..Evanston brings the best in me in the worst way -- I loose track of time, sense of purpose, of present..I literally get lost. Maybe cause I only find myself in Evanston when I'm in love or in trouble, and I can't stand myself any other way..I went into Gap (granted, I'm the only person to have Gap-related sentiments) and suddenly acutely missed Him. For the first time since we split. It wasn't a regret of any kind, we're both happier where we are, it wasn't at all about happiness. This rugged softness and cleanliness and subtle scents of summer, linen, worn denim were all His. So I stood there for a while, alone, embracing this untimely, belated, begone memory. I didn't know why, why now, where this is taking me but I stopped on my tracks to think of him and breathe that familiar air of us together, in love, in this very Gap, ages ago. I even took a mens jean jacket and tried it on over nothing but a necklace remembering how I loved to wear his clothes. Then I hung it back up and marched right out, past the Bookman's alley, past the coffee shop..back to work.

Veronichka

detstvo

Easter

door

pose

Paris

Off with my head !!!

I'm steadily gaining on my alter ego..There's less "why".. I stopped seeking reason.. These are stacked implosions of varying magnitude, no one's hurt, no one knows.. I do. My head is gone..gone with Nick Cave's fairytale sadness and doom and wild roses..Tropic of Cancer re-read on lunch hours..I'm late everywhere..my senses jolted out of rut by this throbbing tender lust..like a low grade fever its making me ache..spring fever.

I'm in the mood for travel..

Sladkaya N

...

Квадрат окна в потолке каменного мешка лестницы, никогда не видела раньше. Сегодня я замечаю все -- все мимо чего хожу каждый день и не вижу, а сегодня вдруг увидела. Оказывается на шпиле церкви по пути на работу вместо креста -- трубадур. Оказывается то что я считала музеем -- ферма и сегодня там пасутся коровы. И наверное ежедневно, но ежедневно я их не вижу. Слева от меня живет пожилой джентльмен с тяжелым психическим расстройством -- весь его день расписан по минутам, к его левому уху привязан будильник и он ходит с ним держась за стены и ждет что же будет дальше..у него нет "сейчас", только потом. Он не может доесть завтрак потому что приходит "потом" и он должен бежать чистить зубы.. Байрон. Родом с Эквадора, слепой с 9 лет, он говорит на 8-ми языках и играет на всех инструментах. Когда Байрон не говорит по-французски с гаитянскими санитарками и не играет на гармонике, он кричит. Так истошно что хочется встать и пойти убить его этим будильником. Байрон боится тишины. Он, как прОклятый мартовский заяц, неусыпно следит за временем. А время тикает ему в левое ухо что-то страшое и Байрон кричит. Справа от меня живет очень тихий попугай. У него депрессия. Остальные обитатели, одуревшие от воплей Байрона, потихоньку колотят его и тогда Байрона надо спасать. Hапротив сидит улыбчивая бабушка и всегда желает мне смерти, не снимая улыбки, иногда подмигивая. Дружу с попугаем..
Это было вчера, вчера был разгар весны и много солнца. А сегодня тьма и пурга, но сегодня я дома..

in passing

I want to kiss your mouth every time you speak..or smile. Your full soft lips with a hint of honey and cigarettes and something so promising it makes me weak in the knees..I love the way you look for me in your sleep, the way you moan a little when your hands glide up and down my body, the warmth and wetness of little kisses planted where your lips meet my bare skin, our warmth and peace together..asleep, yet aware of each other. Its a miracle.

2 y/o, good as new

08:45 pm: on happiness
Happiness is dull. Unlike anticipation with its chances and worries and what ifs -- happiness is a consummated affair much like death..You can't top happiness. You have to fight comfort like cancer to stay alive. But you won't. Comfort's addictive. Eventually, you'll have to blow it all up to be able to feel again..pain, anger, lust, regret -- above all, for its happiness you're doomed to crave when the smoke is gone..Anticipation is the true happiness. To feel. That acute tingle of uncertainty..it won't sustain you, but what's left is but a compromise. Every day compromise to talk yourself into choices you made..Free not to make choices ?..Strong enough to be your own person ?..Lucky you. Lucky miserable lonely you..

I see dead people..:)

lost and lost

I got him on my mind today..filled the car with his music. As if slowly bleeding, I feel no pain, but I'm weak..He taught me how to say goodbye and for that I'm thankful, if a bit sad. I'm at the edge of a glass house looking down, lightheaded, lighthearted, light as a whisper. I say his name and I loose him, again, only now it feels ok, it feels good to let go.

lost and found

"Well the lush separation unfolds you --
and the products of wealth
push you along on the bow wave
of the spiritless undying selves.
And you press on God's waiter your last dime --
as he hands you the bill.
And you spin in the slipstream --
timeless -- unreasoning --
paddle right out of the mess."

calm..ish

I read the last post and realized it is borderline psychotic..definitely manic with delusions of grandure, I learned enough psychiatry and been round crazy people too long to know that much. BUT I FEEL GREAT !!! This is March, getting under my skin..I mixed all sorts of fun this weekend, I'm spent. I am officially a sex addict, good coffee addict, turn-your-head-off-mid-meeting daydreaming addict, pump your heart out workout addict, write it all out in an erotic blimp to drive a man mad addict. I'm hooked. I am tempted to fill this space with words and images far more graphic than its ever seen..I won't. But if I would it would look damn hot :)

Mirror mirror on the wall..I am going through withdrawl

Revelation elation,
High on anticipation
Tension, attention,
too sick to mention.
I see stormy spring,
a fling, a tall drink
And too much rain
too soon, Mansoon.

ITS SPRING !!!!!!!!

March is here..fuck the calendar, I FEEL IT ! I can't stay focused, or dressed, or asleep..I'M ALIVE. I got russian booz blues in the car that's making it worse..hope someone darts my crazy ass with a tranquilizer before I do something stupid....

Premonitions, angels, falcons, unquiet mind

SPB, dead of winter. Beware the low flying angels.. I only catch glimpses of that world, my world..Realities of all sorts hold me firmly on the ground, no escape, not any more. Lower expectations with a chance of freezing rain. I was looking at a face of a man I used to love, two snapshots, 8 years apart, and it hurt me that he has aged so. I wanted to touch his hair, almost all grey now, to kiss his eyes, like before..it wasn't love, it was pain from loosing the image of him imprinted in my head, it was somehow my loss and I quietly mourned it over a drink. Who knew loosing can be so exciting ?..And I've only lost a few preconceived notions. I want to be above my own anguish, above pettiness ravaging my soul, tiny little grudges with long and lingering shadows. I should let it go. There's always peace in random angel sightings, in the sudden humbling awareness of being in an otherwise completely oblivious world.

off

Lazy morning, crazy morning hair, cup of tea, chipped -- bad luck, I'm barely up and dwelling on man's past - a drop of tar in my perfect earl grey. Take it back, I don't want to know. Or else I'll feel like sharing and give you a monkey for your back..alas, I am too kind to men and their prescious egos. Fuck the past. I got errands to run, a good book to read..I'll go for a ride and space out and nothing will get to me today. Today, I got Me, baby.

Pause.

I QUIT !!!
Bye Bye Bombay Hilton.
Hello, morning at home with Boo.
Scandalous. I never ever quit before -- I got promoted, advanced, relocated, stuck and bored at worst..TODAY is the first day after I QUIT the shittiest job of my life, and trust you me I had some nightmare jobs-- no notice other than an e-mail, no way back, no how. I will miss the boyishly charming admin and his action hero side kick, she was fun, if a bit primal, unrefined. Black Mamba :)

random, contemplative