you are are a tourist…

death cab for cutie

“you are a tourist”

this fire grows higher
this fire grows higher
this fire grows higher
this fire grows higher

when there’s a burning in your heart
an endless yearning in your heart
build it bigger than the sun
let it grow, let it grow
when there’s a burning in your heart
don’t be alarmed

this fire grows higher

when there’s a doubt within your mind
because you’re thinking all the time
framing rights into wrongs
move along, move along
when there’s a doubt within your mind

when there’s a burning in your heart
and you think it’ll burst apart
or there’s nothing to feel
save the tears, save the tears
when there’s a burning in your heart

and if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born
then it’s time to go
and define your destination
there’s so many different places to call home
because when you find yourself the villain in the story you have written
it’s plain to see
that sometimes the best intentions are in need of redemptions
would you agree?
if so please show me

this fire grows higher
when there’s a burning in your heart

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blood makes noise (the original version)…

“…it’s a ringing in my ears…”

i’ll never forget the very first time that i heard that “old,” suzanne vega, song. i was living paycheck to paycheck, at the time, but i lived in the best living situation, that i’ve ever experienced.

i had just broken up with, wendy, in 1992. i was in the process of moving out of our beautiful, downtown, la mesa, california loft. it was a beautiful place located right in the middle of “our,” little la mesa…directly above a printing shop, next door to por favor, and across the street from the bakery…and, every morning you could smell the bread baking, it was a wonderful way to wake up.

our loft was really big, it was open concept, had lots of exposed brick, sky lights that opened with the use of a long, hooked pole…lots of light two big bedrooms and a bathroom…each bedroom had a big window, that you were able to climb on top of the built-in bookcase, and get out of…and, there you would be, on top of the roof of our building.

we used to go up there during the oktoberfest celebration and watch all of the crazy people and festivities…eventually, we got caught doing it and got into “trouble,”…stop, or face eviction…we stopped…and, in our defense, nobody told us that we couldn’t do it when we moved in there…but then again, i’m guessing that nobody else ever thought about doing it other than us.

i remember that one night, my whole world changed. i found out that there was infidelity going on in my relationship and i ended it. that was a horrible night, because i picked up the only alcohol that we had in the home and began drinking it. it was rum. i drank the whole bottle and got sicker than all fuck…also, at the time, i was still a smoker…who was smoking kuta kretek, clove cigarettes with her rum.

you have no idea how those two flavors taste, when mixed together…i don’t recommend trying them. it’s now, twenty-five years later and i can still remember that god-awful taste lingering on my lips, tongue, and back of my throat…and vomiting just amplified and intensified the effects. i’ve never ever touched rum again, or drank to the point of being intoxicated, or throwing up. i learned my lesson. now, i very rarely have one whiskey sour at the casino, because i take so much medication.

anyway, i didn’t really sleep a wink that night, just laid there being sick, and watching the fan blades spin around. i got out of bed really early the next morning and headed to our neighborhood vons grocery store. i did a little shopping and walked out to find my car in the parking lot.

on my way to the car, i spotted one of my best friends and one of the people from my four years of carpool to lutheran high school…my friend, r**h. we talked for a little bit and she told me that her dad was the property manager for christ lutheran church, in la mesa’s properties. she also told me, that she was the apartment manager for the apartment complex, that was located right above the church, and happened to also be owned by the church.

she gave me all of the details and told me that she would put in a good word for me, but i wasn’t too hopeful, because her dad drove one of the legs of our carpool and he never liked me. he thought that i was a bad influence, on r**h, and he was probably right. i remember that the first time that i ever tried smoking cigarettes, was with her.

our high school was located close to downtown, san diego, california…at the time…it was at 54th street and orange street, to be exact, right by crawford high school. anyway, r**h and i walked up to a donut store that was about six blocks away from our school. we went there, because i was still a freshman, and thirteen years old. i wasn’t capable of walking into a store and buying them yet, but i remembered that there was a cigarette machine, at this particular donut shop.

i approached the cigarette machine, like i knew what i was doing, while, r**h, bought donuts. i put the money in and froze, as soon as the time came to make a choice. i had never smoked before. i knew that my grandpas both smoked, but i couldn’t remember which brand.

i looked at all of my choices and went with a soft pack of kool 100’s. and that was probably because of the name, kool, with a “k”…the color of the pack, turquoise and white, was very visually appealing to me…the 100’s, because you got more “bang,” for your buck. i quickly fished my purchase from the bin, put it in my backpack, and r**h and i started walking back to the park that was across the street from our school.

we tried smoking our very first cigarettes there, in the park. i came prepared, as i brought some packs of matches from home. i had always seen my grandpas both pack their packs of cigarettes before, but didn’t know how to do it, or why…so, i just kind of “faked it,” to look like i knew what i was doing.

we each took a cigarette. i lit hers first and then mine…and, all i remember is that we put them down, just as quickly as we picked them up. we both choked, coughed heavily, threw them down, and immediately stepped on them. i don’t know if r**h ever picked up another cigarette, in her lifetime, but i didn’t pick up another one, until three years later.

i was sixteen…and, in la-x on an eight hour layover by myself, when i flew to tucon, arizona…to bring my grandma back, so that she could still live in her own apartment with my help, instead of being placed in a nursing home. i bought a short, soft pack of regular camels, “fell in love,” and did nothing but word search puzzles and chain-smoked for eight hours…and, that was the last time that i had a cigarette, until i was twenty-three and lived with wendy.

anyway, i was very surprised when i received a call from, r**h’s father, telling me that he had approved me to move-in to the apartments, at 7917 – b la mesa boulevard, la mesa, california, 91941.

the apartments were really interesting. there were a total of four buildings. one building had all studio apartments. one building had all two bedroom apartments. one building had all one bedroom apartments. and, the last building, used to be the parsonage. it was enormous and used to be one house…of course it had been changed up a little and modified to become three, one bedroom apartments. each of these apartments were completely different, but enormous and with beautiful vintage features.

my apartment had a coved, plastered ceiling, an archway, and some really great recessed, built-ins. my neighbor on the right side got archways and a beautiful art-deco fireplace. my neighbor on the left side, l***a, had beautiful craftsman styled windows and french doors. i of course, had the fantastic and gigantic, middle apartment.

it was very interesting how everything ended up working out. my friend, r**h, went to high school with me and was my apartment manager. and, my friend, l***a, who also went to high school with me, was my neighbor directly to the right of my apartment. her apartment was attached to mine.

like i said earlier, that was the very best living situation, that i ever had, because even though i had just had my heart broken…i had an instant and immediate friend base and support system, which was incredibly awesome!! i also met two guys that continued to be really good friends for years…c*****e and c***s. for as “crazy” as we all were there, we were a close knit, family-type unit. we all liked each other, tolerated each other’s idiosyncrasies, did things together, and got along really well.

see, i get so distracted by all of the details, that i just lose myself, my train of thought, and everything suddenly becomes relevant and part of the story…when in all reality, it could really just be several stories, instead of all ending up as part of the same one.

i absolutely know, that other people hate it…that people get bored and lose interest, but i do it for me…i like it and i enjoy it…this is me, how my mind works and as long as i like it, that’s really all that should matter.

(but here’s the thing, i also don’t want to overwhelm anyone, so, i wrote a more “concise” version of the same story .)

i just find it amusing, looking back over what i’ve written and seeing how everything is both, so interconnected and disjointed at the same time. it’s interesting for me, to see how my mind eventually brings me full circle and back to tying up my main point.

anyway, as i began saying way back at the top of the page, i was living paycheck to paycheck, but really enjoying my life, my activities, and my friends. i found ways to stretch my budget and make things work. along the way, i did take some “shortcuts,” and did somethings that i wouldn’t of course do now, but i learned from my mistakes…one of them being bad credit, at the time.

i did stupid things like joining both bmg and columbia house music clubs, and used my cat’s name on the account to get ten, “free” cd’s. and yes, i know that, that is incredibly bad and naughty, but i did it and i’m owning it.

i remember that one of my ten “free” cd’s was suzanne vega’s, 99.9 fahrenheit degrees, album. i remember that i had my friends, n*****e and d*****h, over to hang out for awhile. d*****h had some weed and made a joint.

i remember being shocked, because i was afraid that my friends from the complex would somehow find out, or smell it, or that i would get evicted. i freaked out, because i didn’t want it in my apartment. that was something that wendy did and i was sick of it.

i’ve tried for many years, to set and enforce boundaries. i haven’t ever been very effective at doing so, but, i’m finally getting much better, in my old age. there was no talking, d*****h, out of rolling and smoking that joint.

unfortunately, that was a precursor of things to come in the future, as she eventually ended becoming one of my roommates for three years. d*****h smoked her joint and i ended up taking one hit, because i believed that it would, “take the edge off,” of how i was feeling…she told me that and i believed her.

what i was told and what i experienced, were two completely different things, exact polar opposites, in fact. i was told that i wouldn’t have a care in the world, that i would be mellow and peaceful.

what i felt was incredibly paranoid, upset, and feeling like i was having a heart attack…which now that i’m older, wiser, and more experienced…i’m relatively sure was a panic attack. i remember that she just kept laughing at me and telling me that i was just, “so silly and melodramatic.” she opened my new cds and loaded my five disc changer.

i felt like i was melting, like i had a really high fever. i was sweating profusely. i stumbled to the linen closet and grabbed a washcloth. i soaked it in some ice cold water, didn’t wring it out, and just sloshed the whole thing onto the top of my head. the water was everywhere. it soaked my hair, ran down the back of my neck, and soaked my shirt.

i knew that the water was ice cold, but it felt hot to me. so, i began removing my clothing. i grabbed my fan and locked myself into the bathroom. i laid down in the empty tub, adjusted the fan, and used a spray bottle to mist myself. it didn’t help.

as i lay in that tub melting and feeling like i was going to die, i began hearing the sound of my own heartbeat, inside of my head, or thinking that i heard it…whatever the case happened to be.

i heard the music coming from the living room, through the door, and directly into my mind. i heard and understood, each and every line of the lyrics. it both thrilled me, because it described kind of what i thought that i was experiencing…and, terrified me, because it described kind of what i thought that i was experiencing.

the song seemed to go on and on, and on…it seemed to go on for as long as i was experiencing my experience…it was weird.

i don’t know how long i laid in that tub, but i was hastened back to “normalcy,” with a not so subtle jolt. i watched as the door opened in what appeared to be, “slow motion.”

i heard the familiar, deep voice, as the door continued to open.”hellllllllllooooooooo, in there…” i instantly knew who it was and i instantly felt “saved.”

yes, i had stripped off all of my clothes…except for my bra and boxers…and i was lying in an empty tub…melting, sweating profusely, and misting myself with the fan.

the voice, resounding and reverberating…definitely deep…definitely male…definitely c*****e.

i just continued to lie there, doing what i was doing. i made no effort to move or to cover myself. i was neither embarrassed nor ashamed.

i was in the best physical shape and condition of my life. i was muscular, fit, the perfect weight for me, and i was pretty good looking. i liked me a lot!! a lot of people liked me. c*****e liked me.

here’s the thing about c*****e…c*****e was one of only three straight men that i could trust implicitly with my life. the other two were d***d and n**l. but c*****e, i could’ve married and spent my life with.

i knew that he loved me and had my best interests at heart. he always protected me and kept me safe. he cooked for me and cleaned my apartment. sometimes, he even did my laundry for me.

for as “perfect” as c*****e was, he was also one of the types of people, that triggered extreme flashblacks, fear, and anxiety, in me. he was an alcoholic. he always had a drink in his hand and even though he made me feel safe…that part of him, scared the shit out of me.

anyway, c*****e came in with a towel and ice water for me. he was an incredible germaphobe, but he sat down on the bathroom floor, rested his arms on the side of the tub, rested his head on his arms, and just talked to me. he talked me through all of the anxiety and panic. he was calm and nurturing.

when i felt better, he helped me up and out of the tub…and, put me to sleepy-nighties…tucking me in and kissing me on the forehead.

when i was still in montana, i heard what sounded like a loud pop inside of my head, and my right ear began roaring. i was seen by many specialists and had many scans done. they found that there was nothing physically wrong with my ear, nerves, or brain. it was a mystery.

c*******e, the schizophrenic woman that i was talking to for awhile, told me that a lot of people with this particular problem kill themselves. for some reason, that statement has always stuck with me. i guess that i could understand how the constant noise could drive a person to that point.

in october, i had another incidence of having a loud popping noise inside of my head. afterwards, i was very dizzy, my hearing was more diminished, and the roaring in my ear was even louder. i went to specialists here in nevada. i had all kinds of scans and examinations performed. everything again, was physically fine, nothing wrong. i was completely frustrated.

i began talking to m****a in november and told her about my problem. i was excited when she told me that she may be able to help me. i thought, “hey, she’s practically a doctor…” yes, my then “girlfriend” was a coroner and mortician…she had tools…she had a doctors kit. i was excited to try something else. i thought,”well, it couldn’t possibly make anything any worse…”

so, i arrived in iowa and was enjoying my visit. toward the middle of my stay, m****a, noticed that i was having a really hard time hearing and being able to fall asleep /stay asleep at night. she told me to lie on the bed, on my left side. i complied and she used one of her lighted scopes and some really long forceps to go probing around in my ear.

i was fine, yeah, i was uncomfortable and a little scared i guess, but fine. she told me that she thought that she had discovered what she thought might be the issue. she told me that she saw a strip of linen (from an ear candle) attached to some part of my inner ear. i don’t know the details and i never saw what she was talking about, because she didn’t get it out.

quite honestly, i don’t even know if there was even anything in there, because if there were, surely one of the specialists would have seen it, right? anyway, i gave her my permission to yank it out and get rid of it. so, it felt like she probed a little deeper and either pushed or pulled a little harder…and, i went from being mildly uncomfortable to being in excruciating pain.

it felt like what i would imagine getting stabbed through the ear drum with an ice pick would feel like. i was lying on the bed writhing in pain, asking her to, “please stop…” i felt a fullness and throbbing in my ear. i felt my ear filling up with liquid. i investigated and it was blood. m****a looked at me and said, “oh, you’re bleeding a little bit.” i thanked her for trying and tried not to think any more about it.

once i arrived in nevada, i noticed how much different everything had become with my ear. i’m not blaming her for anything. i’m sure that she had nothing to do with it and that it was only an accident or a coincidence. i’ve noticed that i really can’t hear anything at all out of my right ear. i’ve noticed that the roaring is so loud, that i can’t sleep at night. i can only sleep for a few hours at a time, before the roaring wakes me up again.

in order to sleep at night, i have to sleep with my ear buds in and have my spotify or netflix cranked up to cancel out the roaring sound. it’s awful really!! it fills my head. it makes me dizzy. it makes me very frustrated and a little confused sometimes. i always go back to what c*******e said…and, i can completely understand how the constant roaring could push anyone over the edge.

so the other night, i put my ear buds in. i put my spotify on shuffle and cranked it up. it’s funny because as i laid there with the constant sound of the roaring in my head…clutching my c-pap hose and trying very hard to just listen to the music, be present and mindful, and try not to have a panic attack…a very familiar song came on…blood makes noise.

i thought that it was interesting, because it seemed that suzanne vega and her song seem to always come on, when i’m having problems with my ears or my hearing and trying desperately not to have a panic attack. i guess that that’s irony for you…fucking circular irony.

(now, just so you know…this was actually the original version of this story. after having a talk with my therapist about trying to be more concise and to the point, however, i decided that it would be better to whittle the story down further…and, to try to get rid of all of the extraneous details that i love so much…and, that other people hate or don’t see a need for. and it’s now 5:30 am, i’ve been up since 3:10 am…listening to the roar and writing to try to forget about it. i saw this original version of the story just sitting in my drafts folder. i decided that it was 2200 words of a very long story that i took the time to write…and, why just leave it sitting there…sadly. so, i took the 2200 words and have been writing for the last two hours…and have added at least 1500 more…all absolutely unnecessary, i guarantee you…enjoy your day!!)

the roseman covered bridge…

these photos should have been posted with my, “under the bridge post,” but for one reason or another, that just didn’t happen. 

here are the photos that document the story. if you look closely at the photos, you will notice some anomalies. it’s up to you to decide what they are.

there were a lot of strange things that happened to my friend and i that night. i thought that there was some kind of residual energy there.

here they are:

roseman bridge graffiti lll – winterset, ia – january 2017

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and there you have it – winterset, ia – january 2017

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pre-quitting, the adventure at the roseman covered bridge – winterset, ia – january 2017

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but, i am from iowa…and, there you have it…

more…

here are a few more photographic memories from iowa. i will have one last batch to share after this one. the last batch will be exclusively from the night of our adventure under the bridge…the “haunted” roseman covered bridge…one of the bridges of madison county. 

getting ready to leave – greenfield, ia – january 6, 2017

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photographic memories…

i realized that i never finished working on and sharing my photos from iowa. so, that’s what i will be doing for awhile today. 

my photographic memories of a very beautiful place and time. regardless of anything, iowa will always hold a special place in my heart…
 https://www.instagram.com/p/BPRTKGAgSsA/

de soto watertower – de soto, ia – january 2017 #iowa #ia #desoto #watertower #water #tower

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the gift…

i made a gift that i put all of myself into. the gift filled my time, my imagination, and my heart. it made me happy to think about the person that it was going to and how it may or may not be used.

i spent three days. i used an old-timey ledger book and began by writing out all of my thoughts and ideas for the project. i focused on the person that the gift was going to. i listened to music.

as i created, i documented. i wrote everything of interest down. i took photos. i made simple animations. i made a playlist of all of the music that i listened to while creating. perhaps that matters to no one, but me… but, i will look back later and remember.

before deciding what to create, i meditated on that person. what i came up with was a deck of cards…a deck to do readings with. at the time, i had no idea if she was even capable or interested, in doing so, later i found out that she was.

20170121_202006-animation

in the beginning…ideas pouring out…

20170121_203442-animation

moving right along…gaining momentum…

20170124_204000-animation

entering the home stretch…

20170124_204231-animation

and there you have it…a labor of love…

as i thought about this person, my materials, and my overall vision for the project…ideas just flowed into my mind, one right after another. it wasn’t hard to know what to do. i can’t put it into words, i just felt it. one of my many gifts, is that of being a sensitive or intuitive. i am very good at reading people and energy, until self-doubt creeps in.

most of the time, i have absolutely no doubt in my gifts. it is only when i allow myself to become too close and emotions are involved that i even entertain doubt. in this project, i had absolutely no doubt. the person that i was making this deck of cards for has many gifts and skills of her own. when i thought of her, it’s what came to mind, quickly and easily.

when cards popped into my mind, i immediately thought of this deck. i have carried this deck with me in my backpack for the last two years and before that i carried it around in my car for the previous nine years. i bought this deck for myself the very first time that i ever went to montana. it was in 2006, with sarah…my mom spotted it and had me buy it.

the cards have been with me for the last eleven years. they’ve traveled with me through oregon, washington, idaho, montana, wyoming, colorado, utah, arizona, new mexico, nevada, and iowa. i never played with them. i used to take them out and just look at all of the dogs. they made me happy. they absorbed all of my good energy, travels, and history.

i thought about the characteristics of this person. i thought about what i wanted to relate to her. i thought most of all, i wanted her to see herself in these cards. i wanted them to be a reflection of her. that’s why i chose the materials, text, words, and phrases that i did. i wanted her to be able to read for others or herself, but to be able to be very specific.

i wanted her to see herself in these cards, the way that i saw her. i wanted her to be able to see herself and see the word/quality, right there smack dab in the middle of her own reflection…so that, she would have to confront the reality that she embodies so much more good, than bad…that she is more yin, than yang…and much more light, than dark.

i chose to utilize aluminum foil to accomplish the reflective element. the foil definitely gives a reflection, not crisp and clear, but ethereal and open ended. i decided that it would be up to her and her own sensitivity to interpret the reflection, along with the word, the number, the suit, and the placement of the card, thus making it very specific to only her.

i chose to utilize words and bits of text, as communication and conversation were always very important to both of us. we were both very avid readers and have a passion for books. we both were very verbose and possess a more than superior knowledge of vocabulary…both proper and slang. we both understood and utilized double and triple meanings quite often.

the gift was one of the most unique gifts that i have ever made. i put a lot of time, effort, good intent, great energy, and unconditional love into it. she knows that everything from the reflective quality, the word, the number, the suit, and the placement of the card means something, and she knows she’s the only one who will ever know exactly what they mean.

that all being said, this how the idea that i received broke down, when it came to the cards themselves:

the deck itself existed of 56 cards total. the standard 52 number and face cards. 2 wild cards. and, 2 advertisement cards. all cards were altered and embellished. all cards are meant to be used in conjunction with one another.

the suits and the qualities that they reflect/stand for:

hearts —> reflect/relate to feelings and emotions.

diamonds —> reflect/relate to worth and value.

clubs —> reflect/relate to domesticity and family.

spades —> reflect/relate to career and social.

the number cards of each suit and the words/phrases that they reflect/stand for:

hearts—>

     2 = happy – shihtzu

     3 = thankful – boston terrier

     4 = loves – miniature schnauzer

     5 = hopeful – old english sheepdog

     6 = wonderful – american cocker spaniel

     7 = curious – rottweiler

     8 = gracious – welsh corgi

     9 = accountability – chow chow

    10 = nurturing – siberian husky

     j = positive – jack russell terrier

     q = passionate – saluki

     k = compassion – border collie

     a = genuine – akita

diamonds —>

     2 = safe – labrador retriever

     3 = trusted – pomeranian

     4 = strong – papillon

     5 = smart – newfoundland

     6 = creative – japanese terrier

     7 = loyal – australian shepherd

     8 = courageous – afghan hound

     9 = solid – maltese

    10 = amazing – english cocker spaniel

     j = insight – bull terrier

     q = honorable – bouvier des flanders

     k = without fear – bulldog

     a = confidence – golden retriever

clubs —>

     2 = open – pug

     3 = fun – dachshund

     4 = supporter – german shepherd

     5 = help – poodle

     6 = mentor – basenji

     7 = advisor – st. bernard

     8 = productive – airedale terrier

     9 = comfort – shiba inu

    10 = empowering – lakeland terrier

     j = responsible – french bulldog

     q = diplomat – miniature pinscher

     k = control – shetland sheepdog

     a = commitment – irish setter

spades —>

     2 = beautiful – chihuahua

     3 = excited – dandie dinmount terrier

     4 = direct – basset hound

     5 = engaging – yorkshire terrier

     6 = focused – chinese crested

     7 = reasonable – boxer

     8 = pride – flat coated retriever

     9 = winner – cavalier king charles spaaniel

    10 = professional – dalmatian

     j = resspected – polish lowland sheepdog

     q = successful – bichon friese

     k = competitive – leonberger

     a = power – bernese mountain dog

the 2 wild cards and the 2 advertisement cards reflect/stand for:

wild cards —>

     1 = prepared and in control

     2 = calculating and composed

advertisement cards —>

     1 = extroverted and quick witted

     2 = zealous and vigilant

*** here’s the thing about the gift. i was told that it never arrived. so, i guess that the reason that i chose to write about it, is so that i can look back and see that i made something pretty unique. so, when i am much older and much greyer, i will know that i created something pretty meaningful and pretty extraordinary. so, in the end, i guess that i made the gift for myself…and, chose words that were a reflection of me…and, i saw the words in my own reflection…and, apparently they always were parts of me. i only wish that she would have received them, because i made them for her…when i told her about them on the phone…she was excited and happy…we went over every single detail of each meaning, of each card. and, i told her that if she didn’t want them, that she should take them to the roseman covered bridge, and toss them through the hole into the icy river below…and she asked, ” but why would i do that?”…i really don’t know why i said that, but it seemed apropos at the time, since that’s where she dropped her phone, and we had quite an adventure and history there…we will never know what became of…the gift.***

it was there…

one minute i had it…

it was there…

it was all fucking there…

at my fingertips…

in my hands…

soft and smooth…

i could feel it

it was palpable…

sparking…

comfortable and warm…

so close…

so motherfucking close…

i could taste it…

i did taste it…

it was there…

open and welcoming…

sweet…

whispers and giggles…

i didn’t imagine it…

it wasn’t all in my head…

i heard you say it…

those three little words…

repeatedly…

it was there…

when you sat next to me…

outside in the cold…

in the christmas eve night air…

smoking…

in 50’s retro, motel chairs…

you in old carhartt coveralls…

me in chartreuse boxers…

and a black t-shirt…

it was fucking there…

right before my eyes…

within my grasp…

i took your hand…

it took me back…

that was no lie…

no misunderstanding…

and certainly, no mistake…

it was there…

right fucking there…

in front of my face…

eyes were locked…

sparkling…

you smiled seductively…

i gave you a cheesy grin…

it was there…

i swear…

we were counting stars…

they were amazing…

like none that i had ever seen…

i squeezed your hand…

it squeezed me back…

i told you…

quite emphatically…

that no matter what happened…

i would always remember…

you…

everything about you…

that night…

that feeling…

that moment…

it was there…

i saw it in your eyes…

and you, you…

proclaimed it from your mouth…

and, as i looked up…

i saw something that you didn’t…

a shooting star…

streaking across the sky…

leaving nothing…

but a fuchsia trail…

it was motherfucking there…

as you read the excitement on my face…

for it was only the second one…

that i had ever seen…

you pulled me close…

by the collar of my t-shirt…

and, it was there…

when you kissed me…

and, took my breath away…

you took me by the hand…

lead me back inside…

and, we fell asleep…

on the couch…

me sitting up…

and you…

lying with your head…

in my lap…

it was there…

as i drifted off to sleep…

i couldn’t help…

but to look down at you…

and feel overwhelmed…

with gratitude and abundance…

my heart was full…

because, it was there…

in that moment…

i was so comfortable…

in my own skin…

i was so confident…

in my own personhood…

i was so content…

in my own personal decision…

to take a billion in one chance…

and, choose you…

because, i always knew…

that you were worth it…

and, i always knew…

that it was there…

it was motherfucking there…