Tuesday, June 17, 2003

Fixed up my template a little, wanted to write, had nothing to say. Too often lately.

Decided it was time for a ride-- got my new $20 dollar diskman hooked up and got on my new $50 dollar bike. Collectively, a $70 dollar cure for writers block and those spare ten pounds I've been carrying around with me since christmas....three years ago. Ani and a foward momentum always make me want to write.

And the quote I've been dying to transcribe lately comes from "Swan Dive".

And I don't care if they eat me alive
I've got better things to do than survive.

That and a hundred others inspire the hell out of me, but that's been the one I've been shouting out lately as I zoom over crosswalks, confusing the poor pedestrians. Music and momentum...ahh, it feels good.

And all these snippets of blog rushed to mine, listening, and still would be rushing-- as I am still listening-- if it weren't for the fact that I'm gradually catching up with them. 10 minutes to do so, ten minutes ten minutes ten minutes of freedom and then Zachary is home. 10 minutes of dashing, daring, bike-dancing rider/writer till I'm a pretty housewife once more. I'm getting better and better at this double life stuff. One of these days, I'll have it perfected.

Too much lost already. Too many things gone down. Flawed relationships strung between a few flawless nights. More dances in inappropriate, embarrassing places with Jeff and serendipitous sexuality with Emily. About a hundred kisses with people I've yet to meet, a million moments of anguished tension...well, maybe not all of those are gone. But the idea that maybe, maybe, maybe it could go somewhere. Gone. And taking long walks through distant cities with musicians and poets coming out of open mics. Laying on the ground staring at the starry skies with people like Greg.

And the music, the dark room, the jazzy back beats, and Casey and I not saying too much. That's the most tangible loss of them all.

And yet, Zack has just walked in-- three minutes early-- and as I look up at him, hiding something behind his back that I can only guess is for me, I can't help but let go of any and all doubts that he is worth it, even with Ani's muted trumpet players trying to keep me in this world, even with this keyboard calling to me as it does.

I guess I'll be sure either way when I see what's behind his back. On with it.