Category: happened

doing 90

doing 90 all the way down the 605. im stunned. I can’t tell if the road is wobbly or uneven, or the car is wobbly, or if im uneven or wobbly. im stunned, making great effort to concentrate on the road, getting my bearings.

they’re coming back, but I feel as if in a dream

Before he got out of my passenger seat he kissed me on the cheek. he calls me “king”. I’d forgotten that a meeting could be this sweet, so much so that I am stunned. im safe in parking spot at home.

this new civic wanted to race me just as we were getting on the 101. I’d passed them on the pomona fwy and maybe they thought I had something going on with my little 4cyl (not that they could’ve known), and they kinda boxed me behind this work truck and some commuter in the middle lane, coming up from behind after I’d passed.

4am, the road feels like when you’ve twisted an ice tray.

im remembering the kiss, it’s spreading over my face from where it was placed on my right cheek, the way a wound radiates like a radar pulse but of an opposite quality-i feel empowered, blessed; I feel stupefied which is the same thing as blessed sometimes (,) anyway–my arms and hands reinforce my grip at 10&2, and when we pass the commuter i downshitft and gun it past them, with the truck falling away to my left.

the civic slides from behind the car into the next lane right, and starts to pull up. im not sure if they can tell that im at the top of 4th gear and they could smoke me at any moment, bc the turns are getting dicier as we’re approaching the 101-10 split.

they overtake me and we only have the right lane taking all the S’s on the brief changeover from the 5 to 101, this delicious windy bit btwn the the la River and Boyle ave above.

(thinking suddenly of the phenomenon of being careful, bc sometimes moments of beauty preclude moments of death)

im more audacious than my suspension is made for, and I ride the gravity into this deep left turn going beneath some overpass, while the civic eases back a lot.

At this point I realize that kiss has intoxicated me, and I feel at once small and foolish, but at the same time alight, with maybe a white or ethereal fire (?), I feel like Krishna dancing on the heads of demons and smiling the while.

I fly out of this tunnel-like turn over a little dip in the hwy. my ass lifts from the seat just a jot, at the same time my left foot leaves the floor. for a microsecond I experience a sensation of weightlessness.

a yellow 86/FR-S comes tearing in past me from the left. I use the slight incline of the hwy right there to kick into 5th and floor it in an effort to catch the 86. by this time the passing lane is opened up in its wake, but I see that the 86 is long ahead of me, and that the civic has fallen back & just started to use me as it’s rabbit.

in any case idgaf and i keep chasing the 86. the 101 has opened into its straight section btwn the echo Park exit and Vermont.

that kiss. the most momentary littlest kiss, and i am shaken to wild stupefaction, my mind still unsure if it happened, but my spirit vehemently assures me it did, and i am alive as it continues to arrest my intellect in a way that is ripe for the road.

the 86 is gone, im doing a hundy, and i don’t even want to get to my exit i just want to drive. no, i want him to kiss me again, just like that. that kiss that made my breath into color and my heart forget how to beat in time.

Im sitting at the light at the top of the off-ramp. my arms are trembling a little, a bit from the physical vibrations, a bit from the time travel, the shock of suddenly being in a stationary position.

a man is casually lounging in the dirt, propped up on his right elbow gazing north. I nod lightly to him. Im getting my bearings again but still feel buzzed like the first drag of a cigarette after a long while of not even touching one.

the light turns green. the kiss is sonorously haunting as I creep toward the impending discomfiture of leaving the car and the banality of sleep.

I’ve been in my parking spot for an hour and daylight has crept upon me like stalker.

youth

In a lot of cases (mainstream?) fashion and modeling are a way to help humans who like beautiful things, to cope with or forget abt their own traumas or those of the world, at least for a bit.

People are attracted to the unblemished, the existent gleam of youth, like a car still fresh off the lot or the assembly line, new shoes or any such thing.

trauma changes a person more than just on the inside. it changes our physiognomy, it changes the face-the way the eyes set, what the brows are doing, how the jaw is held. it changes the way we stand, the way we look at others.

these changes are like weights as well as scars. they stay; their existence is heavy & dense, and perpetuate a constantly cascading effect of subsequent changes.

it is these qualities of youth – lightness, innocent brightness like the sun reflected in morning dewdrop, ignorance – that are so oft exploited by industries/businesses seeking to capitalize from this always readily available resource.

paranoia /\ what’s the catch?

from youth—
people being interested in me outside of family members doing and saying family things.

then formative adolescence: most interaction was either to make fun or find fault or do harm.

i don’t understand strangers approaching me.

what are you getting at?

whats the catch?

—- look at them go. instead of being finished say something about something
.connect to the internet.
connection established**
the one taking who talks fast like on coke goes out to smoke.
wears a shirt, t-shirt black, graphic on front with red sun and some cartoon characters

—- i become surprised when people arent using me. when that’s not coming around.

— there are many people smiling here in echo park.
many of them, i suppose, have a lot to talk about, or at least a lot to say.

i can barely lift my head, i can barely open my eyes.
i can barely stay alive.
that doesn’t say much for thriving.
striving is not the same thriving.

— i stopped using the word “i’ in my youth.

— i can barely poem my eyes.

— i’m really hardcore. i had bareback sex in my car with a person i had met 10 minutes beforehand in a cafe. he was argentinian. he said “i cum for you”. i wanted to lap it up but that was crossing the line for me at the time.

— continuity to life? whats the score?