Friday, September 10, 2010


I’ve already crashed, but I want to tell you about something that happened before. I got up, and got out of bed, and something felt different, different in my head. I put on music, that Green Velvet album that sounds like a satire of religion but I guess apparently he actually got religious but anyway it’s those beats and I’m feeling that place in my head, yes it’s the beats but also that place, can’t I just keep this place for a little longer? That runway, dancing in my living room, that runway my living room and I’m thinking that when I move I should have some kind of thing that happens every week at noon or sometime one day a week where people come over and we dance, just for an hour exactly, although what if I don’t have any energy, maybe it should be for 20 minutes? But what if I don’t have energy for 20 minutes?

Anyway, I have energy now, now while I’m dancing and then I realize I’m getting tired but not as fast as usual so I’m cooking, but something stays, stays in my head, the possibility of feeling, feeling the way I want to. Then I’m editing The End of San Francisco, and wow this place is so good I start crying a bit, crying and thinking I can’t die, can’t die before I finish this book. Not that I’m planning on dying, but you know, sometimes that’s how you feel when you write, and its working, and you write. How I feel.

The fire escape and the sun, today’s a beautiful day and these raspberries, these might be the best raspberries I’ve ever tasted, filled with flavor in all different directions. Back to the fire escape to eat, I can feel myself crashing as soon as I buy into the teff, maybe I should in eat teff anymore, there’s always undigested teff or other small grains in my shit and I stopped taking the digestive enzymes to see if they were helping, I don’t feel any different, so my guess is they weren’t helping although maybe now there’s more undigested teff in my shit. Other grains too, the smaller ones -- quinoa and amaranth -- the ones that are supposed to be the healthiest, but maybe I shouldn’t eat those grains for a while. Maybe it’s time to bring back buckwheat and millet, the grains I cut out after the allergy test, when I cut out 20 or 30 foods and that didn’t help. But that was more than six months ago, after six months usually you’re not sensitive. I mean as sensitive. Or, maybe you’re not sensitive, after six months, but I’m still sensitive. Maybe not as sensitive.

Of course that makes me think about Chris, yesterday I took the J for the first time in a while and whenever I’m on the J I think I’m going to run into Chris, so I started planning it out, this time it didn’t feel stressful, kind of excited but the whole time I was looking around, looking around for Chris but he wasn’t there. I need closure. If he would talk to me, I would ask him to roll a marble down the hill at Dolores Park, I could watch that marble and think when it gets to the bottom of the hill our relationship is over, done, I don’t need to think about him anymore. Or we could meet, and right when I saw him I could drop something beautiful and delicate to the ground, it would shatter and I could think that’s our relationship, it’s done. Maybe I can do this without him, but I haven’t figured out how, yet. Maybe I’ll figure it out.

But anyway I crash, on the fire escape, on the fire escape while I’m eating, and then it’s back to normal, pushing through this heaviness in my head and I’ll keep pushing.


Nick said...

"If he would talk to me, I would ask him to roll a marble down the hill at Dolores Park, I could watch that marble and think when it gets to the bottom of the hill our relationship is over, done, I don’t need to think about him anymore."

This is amazing, Mattilda.

My dreams of closure involve an old metal tower across the street from where we used to spend our afternoons. It became ours the day we decided to let it stand there. I want to climb to the top and hang something beautiful from it. Right now I'm waiting for that need to outweigh my fear of climbing a rusty, four-story ladder.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Thank you, my dear!!!

And, hanging something beautiful from the rusty tower sounds gorgeous -- make sure to wear gloves if there's all that rust -- I mean, if it still seems like the right thing to do, even with that rusty four-story ladder...

Love --

tony said...

always love to read you.
she gave me a candle and
I burned it a little the other day.
As I lit it I knew:
I am burning her out.
When the candle is gone
she will be too.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Tony, I love it!!!

I will start looking for hypoallergenic candles...