Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Lostmissing is a public art project -- I’d love it if you’d participate.
And here's what lostmissing #18 says:
Tonight after the rain stopped I walked all the way up the hill to the top and it was so beautiful I could look down in three directions, the streets were already dry I guess because the rain just rolled right down them and everything was clear and still and I realized I could never ever ever give up this time of night, beautiful deserted clear gorgeous night and then I realized maybe you’re turning 40 this year, and I wondered what that means to you so I called and left this message.
But then I remembered wait, you turned 40 last year or maybe it was two years ago and it’s so strange how six months without talking to someone you’re so close to for so long makes you forget these simple things I mean I remember the date but I don’t remember how many years, and maybe that’s good because I don’t think about that kind of thing so much. From the top of the hill everything glowed and I used to live here for people like you but now I guess I live here for the views, the air blowing in cooler and fresher through the darkness.
Later I was leaving the house, daytime now and I glanced into the residence hotel at the end of the block and there you were, or someone like you, taller actually but you know how when you haven’t seen someone for a while you start seeing them in other people I saw your tattoos on his arms and the cigarette in his mouth gaunt face obviously tweaking I wondered if you had gone in a different direction than I’d imagined. I mean I imagined many things, but I never imagined I’d lose you to AA. I guess drugs didn’t make you inhale a different worldview they made you forget, and then remember. I wonder what you remember now.