insomnia is the only way i can properly see a sunrise.
chuckle moment: a few months back, at cheryl’s writing retreat we did an early morning exercise where we wrote a poem to the sun rising. it was easily the WORST piece of free writing i have EVER done. some of my early slam stuff is better than what came out of that but thats what happens when i get thrust into the dawn.
now, riding the night till it breaks and seeing the velvet moon bleed into cyan is the kind of memory that keeps me going stronger than a double espresso, no sugar, with lemon rind. huh!
my life is such chaos right now. i am still mending fences with a best friend that means more to me than anything and is stil the only person that i can share it all with. i am lucky to have him and even luckier to have learned how to apologize without still trying to win. all this and still so many more bridges to rebuild. i miss my siblings, i wish they would have always stayed young. i miss my sister playing the role of mom even though i (foolishly) thought i didnt need another one. i miss vision. the jokes, the pranks, the camaraderie.
i still love working with my hands. love shoveling snow and building fires. moving furniture and bringing gorceries up the stairs. my legs are starting to get strong again. my knees can support the crosses i am carrying. invisible unnecessary ones.
juancho: you know everybody gets to play jesus, right?
juancho: we are all going to have make a sacrifice
yeah. word. le mot. palabra. my life is starting to border on the fantastic, i stare at my hands and wonder when i will become two-dimmensional, when the edges will appear as movie reels, when the director yells CUT! but we go on, watch as the everything fades to gray tones but my sunrise remains impossibly bright.
For the record, I give you permission to carry my groceries up the stairs if that will make you feel better ;-) And no dressing up in Jesus costumes and making sacrifices when I’m not home…I wanna see that shit, yo? Awwww, take a polaroid and tape it to my ceiling. Awwww, incorporate it into a Christmas card for family and friends. Awww….
On the real though, it’s a constant struggle trying to keep your head above water. At least Jesus rose again, right? So when ya gonna resurrect yourself? When I say?!?! I’ve successfully made the transition to being a complete and total escapist. If it wasn’t for poetry, I might actually be able to fool people into thinking I’m a normal, decent, healthy human being. Point is– while the heart to heart remains a struggle with past ghosts, I’m always there for a laugh. And if need be, I can wake up the ghosts…
“We are laughing”
“One day, we’ll look back on this with much fondness.”
“You’re so wise. You’re like a miniature Buddha, covered with hair.”
“Who is this?!?!”
“Baxter? Is that you?”
“Baxter?!?! Bark twice if you’re in Milwaukee!!!”
“Is this Wilt Chamberlain?”
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