I wonder how much farther I have to go. I wonder where we are--what is going on below us. There are people going about their lives and I want to jump out of my skin trapped in this little metal tube. I got stuck in the shitty seat by the engine and my whole body vibrates. My free diet coke stagnates on my seat tray. Not to mention the annoying man beside me who keeps asking me questions about my life. I live here. I work there. Yeah, I've seen that movie. I don't want to talk. I just want to sit and be nervous. I stopped trying to read the five dollar paperback I bought at the store before we left. I'm not even processing the words, just turning the pages hoping that time will speed up...just until I get there.

I'm almost there. I can't see anything out of the window. Just black and the blinking light on the wing of the plane. I've started biting on my nails. I can't sit here anymore. We have to be close. I've been waiting hours to hear the flight attendant announce our arrival. Actually, I've been waiting months to make my arrival.

It was one of those things--those things I had to do regardless of what anyone thought. I had to go. I had to get out of that place--I couldn't breathe in that place. I didn't even feel guilty when I bought the ticket. Just point and click and it was done. I didn't tell anyone though. I just left. Nothing mattered, except the need to escape. I needed to be anywhere but home.

The pilot it talking. I don't hear the words. Blah, Blah, Blah..Temperature...Blah,Blah, Gate...Customs...Blah, Blah. I've moved forward in my seat, so I can see out the window. Still nothing.

I'm not even sure how I made it to this point. There were mornings I couldn't even get out of bed. I had to sleep with the t.v. on, because waking up to blackness brought reality crashing down around me. I stopped listening to music, because it only made me think of you, of the time we were losing, the time we had lost. I contemplated Prozac. I contemplated vodka and rum. I wasn't as strong as you.

I'm doing better now--now that I'm heading your way. Finally, the blackness has shifted. A thousand points of light glitter and fade below me. I know that somewhere in the yellow and gold, you are waiting for me to arrive.

It feels like we are always waiting to arrive. I just want to get there.

That Street

Alot of things happened on that street. I drove by it the other day, because I was missing you. The first time we kissed was on that street. I was drunk and had my whole life in front of me. You--were right in front of me.

"I think I'm lonely."
"You don't have to be."
"Sometimes I think I do. No one understands me. No one wants to try hard enough."
"I could try."
"I'm fucked up."
"So am I."
"I have issues."
"So do I."


We had our first fight on that street. I was so insecure and you took it so personal. I remember stumbling on the street in my underwear, tears streaming down my face, looking for your car. You had already left and I felt like I was dying inside. What if you never came back? What if I had fucked up everything? I tend to do that. I tend to self destruct. I drove around all night looking for you. I found you at four in the morning asleep on someone's floor.

"Hey."
"Hey."
"Fuck...I'm sorry. Please come back."
"Are you sure you want that?"
"I'm sure I want you."
"I can't believe you found me."
"I think the same thing all the time."

Marking My Territory

I'm not necessarily new to blogging. I have had several blogs that are drifting neglected on the net. I feel somewhat guilty for abandoning them, but perhaps with a fresh start I will find the will power to blog consistently...and--maybe-- (gasp) daily. When I first started blogging, nonchalantly, on MySpace, I suffered from the fear of not being read....(I wanted people to like me...uhh I mean like my BLOG). I suppose it makes no difference if anyone reads this, but it would be nice (hint hint) to have a few hits on my blog (hint hint). I suppose a brief bio is necessary, so one can decide whether I am worthy of a readership.

Random Bio of Sorts

Books on My Shelf: ( a sampling)
Cities of the Red Night--Burroughs
Lunar Park--Ellis
The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
Star--Pam Anderson (no, seriously)
High Fidelity--Nick Hornby
Pussy King of the Pirates--Acker (best title ever by the way)

Movies on My Shelf: (a sampling)
Girl Interrupted
Spanglish
Clerks
Fight Club
Garden State
Jackass I annnnd II
Blow
Shaun of the Dead

What's Playing on my T.V.
The Two Coreys (reality t.v. is my crack)

What's in my Fridge
3 Miller Hi Life
1 Onion
1 Old Carrot
10 Limes
1 Corona Light
2 SnakPak
2 Cartons of Milk (one expired....one still good)

What's on my Living room Table
1 can of hot shot ant/roach spray (it's a war...you have to be prepared)
3 cell phones (all...sadly...i use)
10 candles (fire hazard....what??)
1 Independent Weekly


Random Info
-I have too many clothes.
-I never make my bed.
-I sleep with ten pillows.
-I drive an Oldsmobile.
-I like to think I'm artistically inclined.....or is it handicapped???
-I wish I was a Mac person.


I think that's enough for the first blog. Hopefully not the last.