Tuesday, September 07, 2010

Boxes

Yay -- I finally found someone who stands just before the corner on a hot day, to avoid the direct sunlight -- before, she was staring at me like I was a nutcase for taking pictures of some gorgeous yet subtle graffiti, but now we’re friends. I still haven’t figured out what exactly makes one of my walks a success, I mean what separates the ones that give me energy from the ones that drain me. Like last night I went out in the cool air and it wrecked me. Usually it helps when I have some kind of interesting interaction, with buildings or people or graffiti or that cat or someone’s dog or the light, but I can never figure out when I have enough energy. Sometimes I can feel it slipping, and that means time to turn around, but other times I start out awful and then it gets better.

What will my interactions be like in Santa Fe, where there are barely any people on the street except for in tourist hell, and where there aren’t any buildings to shade me. Maybe there are more trees than I’m thinking, since I was there at the end of winter. I do love winter, I’m excited about that part. I think I’ll end up there, at least for a while.

First I end up back in bed -- I’m doing feldenkrais on the floor, and when I get up I’m too far in the direction of needing sleep. When I get in bed, I think of unplugging the phone and turning on the white noise generators, but for some reason I don’t, so then every time I start to fall asleep there’s some loud crashing noise outside-- maybe demolition or a tire blowout or a gunshot, I wouldn’t think a gunshot except that I’m in bed, probably not a gunshot maybe a firecracker -- but I’m too close to sleep to get up, and it goes back and forth like this for a while until I get up, at least when I take off the eye mask there’s all this light, I can look at the art on my walls from here, with my contacts on. Not sure that was a good idea either, but at least I can see the art better.

I hope I have a lot of spaces in my next apartment to hang up all the new art I got from my grandmother. Now it’s sitting in boxes -- I don’t want to unpack it, because then it will be too hard to pack. But what if I arrive, and I don’t know whether I’m staying? Or for how long? Will everything stay in boxes? I hate when that happens. I want to stay somewhere for a while. I don’t want to move again, not too soon. But I don’t know if Santa Fe is the place where I want to stay. Because of the nuclear contamination. And because I just don’t know. I guess I won’t know till I get there, and till I get there I have these boxes, more and more boxes, they are accumulating as I remove books from the shelves, that’s all so far but soon the closet, and the dresser, and everything else I guess too.

Oh, that feeling in my head from a nap, bruises on the back of my skull and what’s that dryness inside, like everything doesn’t quite connect, my sinuses or something around there a dryness in my throat too and I need to eat more, right away, even before I drink more water.

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