~ surrender ~

stuyvesant & the art of reconnection
Date: Jan 9th, 2005 8:30:02 am - Subscribe
Mood: capricious
dreamscape: NY and the twins falling in plumes of smoke..

suzie called michael and had her lawyerish way with him, felt good to know she was doing my secret bidding. he called me back 1 minute after she gave him the dead line. he was curious, apologetic. just how i wanted, i guess. i rambled for a bit about feelings and such. he rambled a bit about thoughts and misconstrued feelings. i don't really want much, just a friendship and perhaps a better chance at something other than tedious unfulfilling drunken sex. im about to light a stuyvo in the house. there you go; lit. no ashtray around, but carrie is keeping company, i see. i think the allure is all in the ignis fatuus and the hollywood via NY dreamland i live in when it comes to this 'love' thing i don't know anything about. im ashing in my 50 cent fuchsia candle holder and thinking about my friends. is this [and by this, i refer to my digressive monologue] really what it takes for me to realise what it is to have friends that i love? even when its sometimes fractious to be close to people.. to be alcoholised and smoking and being in NY. really? is this what it takes to be fluid? i have faith that it is not. i feel the fluidity at times, yet still notice the jarring gracelessness that grips at my throat. i let this go and just sit with all these tumultuous ramblings. hyperdictionary, hello.

so what happens? i just sit with it and let it go? i guess so. it doesn't really feel like much, so another stuyesant kinda smokes it out and i forget again. im not even breathing it into my lungs now, just mouthing the words and insufflating into the ether.

im barely breathing now; damned peter s and his dutch conquering of new yorks fertile soils. is this dutch courage and the concealed fatuousness of my online life? i dunno. breath and convoluted ringlets of smoke. full stop. i think of sarah.

i feel sick. why am i smoking? im sick of this seriousness that im predisposed to. habit? probably.

ungracious charredness that is my breath.

im gonna stop right now.
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