Thursday, July 22, 2010

meredith
i think about you often, we almost got there, it was to perfect for you, fear of happiness destroyed you, you needed your illness and i was a shell shocked veteran with blank spots like bullet holes all over. ours was a dark mysterious love, it was almost perfect
we were peas in a pod, two crazy freaks, doing our crazy things, womadalaide was fantastic, i loved the way you spoke to the flowers and those invisible people, we listened to the music and danced our own festival, we skimmed the night and tripped the light, and we got so lost, even though i had never been to adelaide before i found the way home with my radar tuned in to your tiny place, that cocoon in st.peters 7th street. you painted my name on your walls and we played our desires.
there was a dinner party there once in the garden, everyone eating and drinking while we huddled under a blanket, you had just had a seizure and kept drifting into sleep, then you woke up and looked like a cat, you looked at me and said, 'i wish these crazy bitches would go home so we can go to bed.'
it was very funny.
the bitches were great people to, i loved your friends, they were great people.
i remember the only time you really absorbed something i said was when i told you about our previous life together, you a jazz dancer in paris, you still were really, or you should be, that was the thing that makes you nuts, it makes you sick, that longing for doing what you love.
we went down to that place by the sea in a train, it was cold, the beach was empty and we ate pizza and looked like we were married on the way home. there was some drama, i can't recall, i think you told me that a lot of bad things happen there.
then one day, after you had a major seizure i flew down to see you, i was exhausted, i only had three days and i wanted to cook you a few meals and clean up your place so you would not have so much to do, i just needed a good nights sleep, i had been awake for 4 days, ready for the crash.
i asked you for something to help me sleep and looked at the palm of my hand, where you had placed a small white pill. my last thought was it's so very small, and then i woke up in a pub.
three days had passed, i just came into my body as if i'd been astral travelling, i found my consciousness in this strange pub while you fed me a steak. you said, 'i 've explained it over and over, and then proceeded to explain again.'
i couldn't understand why you were feeding me meat, i remember grabbing some red wine and draining my glass.
then i heard the story and i couldn't believe you. you showed me the papers, from the hospital. code blue you said.
i ended up staying there with you in that house for 10 days, we smoked a lot of weed, you with your post seizure condition me with my brain damage. we must have looked like a strange couple, chatting away, getting through the day without venturing out much, except each morning we would put our coats on and wander up that road to get our spinach pies and coffee.
my head wasn't working very well, but my heart was.
i don't know what happened, it was to hard for you, i must have been very difficult, everyone says i was very difficult, a cross between a autistic idiot savant and some one with turettes. i didn't know, i didn't understand myself, i just felt this incredible feeling and found myself alone. i was travelling towards a new destiny, i wasn't even steering the ship, i wanted you but instead i got....this.
magnificence.

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