on the past in the past
03.30.14back&
forth
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still in love, still working on everything, still being an evil queen and plotting and planning magic and mystery. one hundred happy days. i'm always half a second away from booking a plane trip somewhere new, somewhere old. passing from one life stage to another like a fish. it's going swimmingly, i told her. tonight i'm up late organizing my closet. stopped smoking, not that i'd ever really started. stopped running, and happily at that. but yesterday i ran through the woods, ran on a treadmill. we can change at any fucking moment. i can drink a soda or vodka or get in my car and pretend it's a racecar. but instead i'm going to file my paperwork and tuck my new socks, carefully folded, into their drawer. there is nothing like a perfectly organized closet. i'm so happy; and i don't give a fuck. 2014 is spectacular like a firework, and i'm holding hands and making out under the great moss trees.
�We looked at each other with a mix of tenderness and befuddlement, moist-eyed. It was clear to both of us, after the five or ten minutes of our hasty conversation, that this chance meeting was the last time we ever were going to see each other� But that was O.K. Knowing we would never see each other again�it was O.K. When you�re young, you think there�ll be plenty of time for everything in your life: counting all the grains of sand in the Sahara Desert, seeing all the people in the world, becoming greater than Jesus and Lenin and Lomonosov and Pushkin and Einstein all rolled into one, reuniting at some point with everyone you�ve met once in your life, befriending every man, falling in love with every woman� Life is a process of gradually coming to terms with the meaning and the very concept of never-ness. Never�well, so be it. Quoth the raven: oh well, them�s the breaks. Get used to it. Get over it. Life is a perishable proposition of rapidly diminishing returns. You could�ve become this or that; you could�ve been here and there and everywhere; but that didn�t happen�and well, so be it. There won�t be, in the end of your life, a joyous, transcendentally meaningful regathering of everyone you�ve ever met on your path, with stories shared and wine flowing and laughter lilting and happiness abounding and life never-ending�well, so be it.�
� Mikhail Iossel
the past is a dream that i only remember or think about late at night, reading some random quote and then getting in bed with my boyfriend. everyone that matters is in my life now, the present, and so on, and so forth.
i'd still wave and say hello, kiss on the cheek and disappear in a cloud of smoke. keep moving. relax. stay right here. everything's fine.
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