Friday, August 28, 2009

How outside is just inside looking

I’ve finally found an apartment, it’s a sublet with two other people in a huge industrial loft, it’s the first week in my cavernous empty room, walls connecting to walls and looking outside it’s like inside looking outside. I’m trying to sleep, but there’s something I’m allergic to -- it’s not mold, there’s no mold it’s so dry. I go in the other room, the common room with a big laundry machine in the middle and counters but nothing else; it’s bright with sunlight, even though there are no windows. My roommate comes in, she wants to know if everything is okay -- I’m allergic to something, I say, and I don’t know what it is. She says maybe it’s the chemicals he uses in his art, so I go in his room and in the middle is this huge centrifuge shaking, nothing else, this room is like my room so the windows face walls, the only light is the light between buildings and all the windows are closed, he’s in a corner in a painter’s uniform, shaking to the same rhythm as the centrifuge. I can’t smell the chemicals, but I can feel them -- I say I don’t mean to get in the way of your art, but would you mind opening the windows?

He looks over at one of the windows, and I see that it’s open a tiny crack. I go in the other room to talk to the roommate who I actually like, she says maybe we should go out, when was the last time you went out? Her room is huge and empty too, and she’s sitting in the far corner at a round table, talking on a big red secretary’s phone. Where would we go, I say. She thinks we should go to that underground club, the one that’s only open once a month in that brick building that they rent out to people but no one ever rents it out. I say do you think people will be smoking, I need to explain something to you -- I can’t even deal with the smoke that comes in from outside, and she says you’re right, there probably would be smoke coming in from outside -- let me post a tweet about something, because I need to get fucked, and then I see the screen of her cellphone, someone replies right away -- I say isn’t that the guy who wanted to kill you?

She says yes, but we only have a month, that’s not enough time, and then I look out her windows and I notice you can see the trees, greens and reds and yellows in the lowering sun and there’s a breeze blowing in. I wonder how she got that view, and how I’ve never noticed it, nothing but trees in the distance past everything that is burnt to the ground, the landscape.

But remember how outside is just inside looking outside, so then we’re on the subway and she’s in some kind of box contraption with the guy who’s fucking her and I’m watching just to make sure he doesn’t kill her. Then I remember she said he would need more than a month, and we won’t be here a month so I go outside with the guy I’m just getting to know, outside the subway car and it’s like he’s on one side of a wall and I’m on the other so I lean my head over to see with my lips and then his lips and we’re both holding onto the plywood wall but I realize I need more so I grab his head, more lips and tongue I realize this is what I’m looking for and then I wake up.

No comments: