random encounters

So i'm not working much these days, which is nice.
I can fill my days with anything I want.
Mostly more painting, god, it's tedious detailed work too. I wonder what they'll discover when I'm dead, what piles of tedium will they find in my living quarters?


Thought. Is it fair to hold grudges? I'm not a grudgy kind of person, and I tend to believe that everyone is constantly changing in little and big ways. But what if the characteristics that you don't like about someone are part of their personality? What if they will never outgrow or understand how their micromanaging or controlling or even just pushing their truth on others, makes people around them feel. It seems okay to let that person go from your life, no matter how close they are.

and... don't forget that not everyone likes everyone else, it's pointless to force it, even if you are related.

jeez, people in san diego are all about the shift in consciousness..

what does that even mean.

There was a man, one. who would look at me and I could swear he was looking right thru me,
looking square at my longing for the little things of his life to be mixed with mine.
looking at all the encounters and jokes I had imagined we'd share.
He was the most handsome I had ever seen, with gold in his skin, complementing the pink in his lips when he leaned in to kiss me and the blue in his eyes.
His voice was like soft blankets and sometimes it squeaked when he was smiling at me.
I sat in his lap and we had kissing quotas.
He brought a typewriter over and made christmas cards with me.
I came home to a dark house one night and found a message on my answering machine. he had called me from a willie nelson concert and recorded his favorite song on my machine. I sat on the edge of the couch and listened to that scratchy bad recording over and over again.
he scared giant flocks of starlings from trees for me on late night in february.

But this seeing through me part became unsettling.
As if he could see how much I wanted our lives to fall into place together
It got to the point where just seeing his smooth swagger towards me quaked my insides, it made me stutter and blush, it made me coil with anxiety. It made my blood rush.

but I wanted to calmly stroke his hair and whisper in his ears when he slept.
and I never got over him, and maybe I never will, and maybe that was the only thing that was supposed to happen to me.