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| back into a darkened bar last night. a summer show. the smoke sticking to my skin. whiskey. friends.
i'm back to where i began.
...
and with that, that's the end of my xanga tenure.
these last two weeks have been great. a re-centering. a leaving of things.
this will still exist as a journal of this last year. but it's time to be what i've wanted to be all along.
i hope everyone is ok.
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| i was going to go out explaining a lot about what lay in front of me,
and not knowing what to expect, and the joy in that.
but i decided to go quietly. and to just be human.
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| well, this weekend has been one to go down as one of the best in recent memory.
beginning with a last-minute trip to see an absolutely mind-blowingly
fabulous show [see the last post] and a touch of the next day spent in
chicago kicking around wicker park again and generally just having a
good time. we left in time to get anna back to work and bryan and
i wound up hanging out a little the next night, throwing a few
back. we picked anna up and went home. the next day i went
to my aunt's for some family bbq time. it just blows my mind
everytime i eat around other people that it's so hard for them to
fathom what it is to be vegetarian. i'm starting to get sort of
annoyed by all the questions and comments that are best summed up best
by the eternally asked "why don't you eat meat?!?!" which both
expresses their disdain at my choice to not eat a dead animal and also
expresses their lack of attempting to at least respect that i don't eat
meat. anyway, after the rest of the family split, i wound up
hanging out for a while with my aunt and her partner. and it was
good. i love their house. it's sort of small, sort of
almost old, lots of vegetation around -- native, wild flowering plants,
a nice sort of ragged back yard, an apple tree which we sat under --
and a relatively quiet neighborhood. i felt most at ease during
that time. their life together most fits what i would like my
life to look like rather than the one my mom lives and the one my dad
lives -- lives spent in front of a television listening to ads, lives
filled with yes you guessed it, consumerism, and pre-packaged foods and
weekend trips to walmart for deodorant and soap side by side with their
second spouse. i left there and got home wishing i had a bottle
of wine to enjoy in that heat and humidity that sits on the borders
between spring and summer. i heard my neighbors knock on my door
just a few minutes later and they wanted the same thing. we got a
couple of bottles of wine and just talked about the things that meant
something to us -- the human things: the things that make you remember
that you're alive and breathing, the things that make you remember that
you're not alone in your questions, in your sometimes lack of
direction, the big stuff that you wondered aloud about with your
friends when you were younger: about love, and god, and you find
yourself still with those questions years and years later, only they're
deeper now, much more adult versions of those adolescent
imaginings. we spent all night together. listening to
music. sitting and talking on our couches. smoking.
sitting on the porch in the night air with our drinks. two houses
down, the ambulance arrived again for the old woman that lives there
with her son's family. and again the ambulance left without
hauling her body into it's flourescent-bright interior, careening off
down the street towards the university hospital. soon we would go
to bed, and i would spend the next day lying there in the half-light of
my bedroom, awake. at sundown we drove to creve coeur lake and
sat on the beach in the dark until it cooled off and huge drops of rain
begain soaking our shirts. we drove home in the dark with the
windows down. and laying on my bed when i got home, i spoke on
the phone with a girl and made solid some plans for next weekend.
weekends like this you swear you could die and feel ok, believing that you've had a full life.
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| just maybe, the end is in sight.
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