August 31, 2005 - 1:18
I would like to illustrate my Saturday evening (Oh yeah). I've got nothing but love for you.
The background for my journey through freak-out, was four separate but equal electronic musical performances. It was planned this way by my co-horts.
The onset was not instantaneous, but was immediately triggered when my guide suggested I focus on my breathing. And so it was not onset, but onslaught.
I danced like I had never even tried to dance before. I felt automated, or programmed like a wind-up toy. Hooliganship led us via cartoon manifestations of themselves, in calistenic dance routines, and I said: "I can do 200 dance moves, if I've got the room!" over and over. And so while I became a champion mover (taking my beads off to jump-rope through them), my goal in heart was to corner all of you at once, and tell you why you are remarkable.
My ladies Sarah, Krystal, and Lynn got my utmost devotions. I wanted to hold all of them to me, I wanted to convey to them that they should never question my intentions with them, that they deserve nothing but wonderful things. Seriously, deserving things full-of-wonder. And In contrast to other feelings had that night, I knew with my entire self, that these ladies are my real allies, the ones whom we will feel for each-other.
I solidified my friendship with Scott, telling him how much I was impressed with him. How together he's got it, and how forward I look to being his good friend. Jumping up and down with him, feeling his understanding at my circumstance, and knowing that he was sharing in the joy of my experience in the most supportive way. Seriously, dog. A new, true presence.
I also called a stranger out, and told him that I knew his name was Fred because I had seen his face on the internet. I said that!
Why didn't I see Steve? Where were you Steve? I would have assailed you.
I told Zac that he is like a grumpy older brother to me, with whom I no longer take quips personally, but try to avoid when he is in a mood.
"You are like one of my family, and other people are my friends." I also said that, and it's true. I adopted Zac in my mind long ago, before I moved here.
Do you want to know what I said to my land-lord? I will tell you.
"I'm sorry that I'm leaving this way. Will I still get my deposit? When will I get it? I really like you. You know what I like about you? Your clothes, mostly. I like it when you wear shorts with knee socks and rugby shirts. I also like your hunter green corduroys, and your blue tennis shoes. I would like to be friends. I would also like to be friends with Emily. I like it when she wears the pants that I gave to her, and I wear the dress that she gave to me sometimes. Would you have a dance off with me?" And so we did.
And if there is any regret tinging those conversations in my memory, I tell you it was all worth it for the session I had with Rebecca.
I have hesitated to try and write it down, because I've never tried to record the conversations between hearts throbbing at each other. The onomatopaeia hasn't been established.
I should have known it would happen, because this circumstance aside, I have loved and admired Rebecca in ways that have at times been overwhelming to me.
It is the little things that grab the fibres of throat sometimes, because she is like an alien enchantress, and at times it is confounding.
In a corner, extreme animals at our back, we let every little tapioca bead spill out, from the pocket of our cheek where we had been hoarding them for each other. So I will attempt a sketch, who said what to whom unestablished.
"You are what grounds me."
"You are my family."
"You have the best hands and feet I have ever seen."
"Your hand-writing is beautiful."
"We were meant to find each other when we did."
"Your life is your art."
"I have felt like crying when I hear you singing in the shower."
"I love it so much when you don't lisp."
"You are my favorite girl."
"You are my favorite girl."
"When we haven't talked, or when I don't feel like I am in your life as much, it doesn't really matter, because I just want you to be happy."
Later that evening, after tip-toeing through sand phosphorescents, we slept in the same sleeping bag on the beach.
To record our talk properly, for prosperity, I would like to trip out once more.