Wednesday, April 16, 2008

This loss

I'm struck by the way desire frames me, which makes me wonder if I can frame desire, since it's inside moving outward, right? I'm on the bus, searching for the person who will give me that moment to take me everywhere: those lips facing me from that seat across the divider, the seat facing backwards with those lips, oh those drunken lips. The way that guy's hair frames his face, really frames it because it's curly and surrounds him maybe that frame matches the frame that frames me. Everyone else looks too exhausted, it's the end of their workday.

Not that I'm not exhausted, it’s ideas that gave me this energy I have to remember that -- talking about David Wojnarowicz at Modern Times and beforehand really I was so exhausted I didn't know how I would do anything, I mean I knew I would push through exhaustion so familiar yet still overwhelming almost more overwhelming in its familiarity still I didn't know how I would feel afterwards. Sometimes afterwards I'm so drained I can't function. But now I have this frame, this frame on the bus and the lights go out maybe for a makeout session but no we're just stopped on the side of the road and people are hooting, a few people, no just one, just one drunk guy with a freshly-shaved line at the bottom of dark hair leading to neck, tan and smooth, and then the bus starts again.

At home, no it's not these terrible internet cruising sites, not these sites that will help me frame anything, even loss just gets stuck there until it's not loss just stuck. I'm too tired for the Nob Hill Theatre, another place for loss: loss of balance, loss of time, loss of memory becomes that walk in a square, that lean against the wall, that gaze into those eyes turned away. Maybe the next time I turn the corner. Maybe after I drink from the water fountain. Maybe when I open the bathroom door to get back to that walk in a square or I’ll stare at the DVD packaging in glass cases until maybe it's the next person to walk down the stairs, maybe the next time I turn the corner, maybe after a drink from the water fountain, maybe when I open the bathroom door.

Okay, now I'm really tired, I guess the good thing about my rule banning the browsing of craigslist postings helps me now, helps me because when I'm tired like this is when I get lost. Although I can't help but want something to rescue me from my own exhaustion, this familiarity, this loss.

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