Sunday, April 01, 2012


The berberine extract has not yet arrived, but I’m at the store anyway -- Rainbow Natural Remedies -- they used to have a grocery store too, but now it's just supplements and they carry most of the companies that used to only sell to healthcare practitioners -- now you can get any of those on the internet, but that's so annoying and it hurts my body and I'd rather support an actual store, right? Unfortunately, they always have some horrible intense incense or scented overload drama going on, and then I get spaced out and start staring at all the things I didn't know I wanted, end up with a sinus headache but at least this time I get an essential oil blend of lime, orange, lemon made by a local company, organic and only $5.85, that's a good deal. Much better than the tiny container of borage oil for $15.95 but I haven't tried borage oil in so long that I think maybe it will be my first test, to see if I can digest oil with these new enzymes. Wish me luck.

But, wait -- back to Volunteer Park. This time with Marisa and a car because the sun has come out beneath the clouds and we want to get our sun exposure, right? Just before sunset -- that's the way it works, you have to take it when you get it. So lovely the way the water from the reservoir reflects the light and the clouds turn purple, red, orange and I start talking about the clouds in Santa Fe but I don't miss them really, do I? I mean I'm loving the clouds right now, loving this moist air although my voice is a bit messed up from talking too much, is that what it's from? Now I mean -- I didn't notice this at Volunteer Park, but maybe that's because I was talking.

Something about generational experiences of youth, that's what I was thinking about -- the way, when I was 15 16 17 the last thing I wanted to be was young. I was already going to bars and pretending I was 23, sophistication and invulnerability and worldliness -- that's what I was after. It was only when I first came to Seattle to stay with JoAnne for a month in 1994, just before I turned 21 I guess -- that was the first time when I kind of felt like it was okay to be young, like maybe I was young. Because Seattle had a youth culture that I had never seen before -- not like DC where it was privatized or San Francisco where it was invisible -- there was a culture of teenagers dressing up and hanging out in cafés until 4 am, queer 14-year-olds reading each other at the Lambert House during the free meals. It’s these glimpses of a past in Seattle that I forgot about, or didn't forget about but I didn't really feel like they were a part of moving to Seattle now, my history here in a new town that isn't quite a new town.

But the thing about generational experiences -- I wonder if that feeling of wanting to be older and independent, was that something generational? Or just a familiar feeling among outcasts and incest survivors, but no -- that's what I'm saying. Often I don't sense that feeling now among queer kids who are okay with being kids, a good thing I think but also kind of confusing to me. No, that's what I like -- but then sometimes there's the way a culture of nonprofits turns kids into permanent dependents on social services, or maybe not permanent but dependent nonetheless and that confuses me -- the comfort in that dependency.

It's sunny out again, but before I went on a walk in the sun but by the time I got to the street the sun was gone and then it was freezing and now I'm waiting for my laundry to be done, too tired for another walk but it's tempting when you see the sun, right?

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