Yes, you, that line on the back of my neck from the sun this past weekend, and on the right side of my cheek, kissing it through the ride down and not on the ride back up. One day is all it takes to see that a world isn’t so far away, and things change. Sitting there in that little cafe, one that I haven’t sat in in years, swings the pengalum of time back to that year that I pranced around on a creditcard lifeline and a tiny sketchbook that I was getting to know. I didn’t realize how lucky I was then, how lucky I am now, I realize that it is a blessed thing to have the luxury to sit and think and draw. I see that we must sit there and ponder on nothing, just breathing in and out and maybe not having to have anything to say at all. A smile and a kiss on the nose, on the outer corner of the eye, the scratchy stubble of a two-days old goatee and wipe away the tears and the burrow of a brow.
the night sinks into its self, the mirror reflects mirror of a mirror of an image of myself, and I smile my biggest grin at the wall while I sit peeing in a restaurants bathroom. I like to sing in parking garages and evalavators where the acoustics echo back and forth and I just know that I am trying hard and practicing the ride up and down and back and forth, the 405 exit crenshaw blvd, biking through the traffic and the people, fighting hard against the waves, crashing and crashing and crashing again, the ever forward paddle, the ever onward march. tired. my feet are tired, and the waves keep coming, and i am no good with a board. we drive, listening to all the songs of high school and friends are throwing 90s parties to be ironic and as a humor flashback, and i think its genius. i put on the red lipstick and hike up my jean shorts with the plaid shirt tied around the waist, mini backpack on. i run into the sand and fall into the water.