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Cnfrm# JB34K8CD  
12:13pm 24/12/2015
 
 
The Masqued Man
Sleigh bells in the air
Beauty everywhere

Sax solo.  Dreams of sidewalk junk shopping.  Are there reasons?  When dreaming of epic restaurants one knows one shall wake up hungry.  Must have missed something.  Or maybe it's because so much family in town for x-mas. That would make sense.  Hanging out with The Dude for the first time since… well, first time, long time.  “It felt like everything was the same” is something that was not said. Just talking until 5:30 in the morning, like we were eternally young, all life on the cusp of, if only we could just say the right ones, talk it through stone sober, find the right song, the right tube video, the right meme…

Now I'm really tired. But I ordered some great stuff off etsy before lunch.

Yuletide by the fireside

Long hot showers and sleeping in late after being out late.  No work, no class in… can’t remember… first time, long time.  Meeting funny strangers (and getting gdh (good & decently high), (we call it seasoned)).  Walking around the neighborhood to look at the lights with those holographic glasses that make every bright point of light a candy cane or a gingerbread man or a wreath.

Can’t believe that it’s been another year, I don’t feel older, I just kinda feel like I’m running out of youth.  Maybe I’m crazy, so what?  Does life push and pull you wherever the fuck it wants and our choices serve to either validate destiny or hopelessly flail against it like a toddler in the surf?  Or do our choices matter, can we effect change, were the things we thought were fate really just luck (good or bad, not judging.)

Fun group went out on Tuesday. Cailtin (rrh, really really high) laughing laughing so it makes Tony angry because he has to be the responsible one.  She’s wearing those fish earings she wore for the birthday party back in August and she glows pink right through her skin saying what is happiness, but a feeling, a state of mind, like sadness? Poetry, that. Tony scowls and scrolls.  She grabs his warm hand and laughs. Peaking inside her mouth and nostrils, watching the poetry of her soul rip through this fragile body like a 23 year old volcano of joy that will break right through her heart and she doesn’t even know it. 
I could be wrong.  I miss being happy.

I miss being sad in the winter.  Let’s say it started to rain this week for a bit.  A good coupla days in which I should have emailed Alex and M but didn’t.  One thinks of names to say in prayers, thinks of God, another old friend you meant to get in touch with.  November skeleton trees, like on Lorne Park Rd. doing lame Musiq Soulchild dancing in cold up and down wind.  I am naked as the yard. 

A good couple days. I guess we already established that. I guess the fact is its winter brings up how scared I’ve been all year. Having to do the whole Christmas thing, I think I don't feel the pain I once did, and here it comes back.  Doesn’t have to.  So what if I’m crazy?  Dreams of sidewalk junk shopping odd but not surprising.  A broken car hugs the driveway.

And joyful memories there

Not hard to imagine cousins having a good time at Christmas.  John the Baptist took Jesus Christ down to the river on a Friday night, talking about politics and the revolutions of the young, how’s Aunt Mary, playing with fire & water, just boys. nothing to lose.

If only it worked that way.  If only things had gone differently.  Things might as well be different, while I’m going down this train of thought.  Two cousins might not have moved apart, happiness might as well be sadness, love hate, hate love, crying laughing, death life, separation togetherness, I might as well not be me (put a mask on much?) and you might as well not be you and we might as well have never see anything in each other at all.

But that’s not going to happen.  I am me and no one else can be and I guess that does make me pretty crazy.  Are you listening?

Yes, you now. 
Now I wish that you would just leave.  Now you’re gone. Now I wish that your presence would stop hovering over me.  Not like an angel over those stinkin’ shepherds but like the whole heavenly host.  How the fuck could you miss it?  I see you all the time, over and in everything and no one else notices, which is wonderful and terrifying.  My nerves shiver, tightness in my chest. I tighten my belt, finish the soup.  Once the soup has disappeared I see that it is meaningless to eat or smoke. You, appearing, first time, long time, like a Christmas Carol on the breeze, like a gust of water spray over the rutabagas. Wonderful and terrifying. 

Why not go for a run?  Why not pick up the phone?  Why not dig plastic out and buy more things?  Song comes on the radio.  Sax solo.  Had junk dreams of sidewalk shopping. Are there reasons?  When dreaming of needing to take a piss one knows one shall wake up and need to take a piss.  I am remembering something.
 
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 damasquedman
 
07:37pm 24/12/2015 (UTC)
 
 
The Masqued Man: 'Splozion
Oh man, I am remembering part of that late night conversation now and Rite of Love would be a GREAAT band name!
picword: 'Splozion
 
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