woo

I'm all turned around and happy. Days at the office with nothing to do baffle me. The World Cup is my kinda game... but, having returned from the hippy festival with siblings, it continues to somewhat surprise me that I'm not drinking a beer - hey sportsy real estate guys of the company - they fucking tryna rob us and we still win. I should be wrrrrrriiiiiiiiting....

I am getting high!

Oil spill, hunh? Florida beaches - gone for a while. Is sarcasm a cheap trope? - well..., nicely done. I am going to do my best for the things-fall-apart era of the Empire. I think i can bank on le capiltalisme for a little longer. And plastic bags can be my enemy and you know, I'm going to do my best... excluding taxis... but I'll move to Manhattan maybe. Babbling.

I was reflecting earlier and I'm postponing my reflections. In some ways I am a little old world and I like that - so I think personal thoughts and I want to write but the blog can seem so apart compared to... what was the old thing? writing in private and trying to publish?

So it's hard to segue to how serious I was being in my thoughts. I remember something I've "always wanted to write about" or rather thought of when thinking hard about my life because it feels good. Boys who died. I dunno - I'm not gonna write about it uniquely. No. But in my town there was a boy who died riding his bike a year after I moved to that town. I didn't understand death and reacted to it like it was a story about life. My 3rd grade teacher chastised me for the letter I wrote his mother for the memorial book - I just made up a soap opera feeling basically. I had his mother as my English teacher in 7th grade. She told me at the eighth grade dance that she had waited to meet me. She said he talked about me all the time. I prayed to him for a while after that. We weren't even in the same class. I had spent second grade crying.

So personal.

My idea moved on to this: art and loss and the universal. There's no way to live without experiencing loss and loss is so huge. If you experience it young, it nonetheless comes back later like a tidal wave, as meaning comes to take shape in your strange crooked brain.

I mean that empathy is tha process, in a way. I mean that I saw precious, and my god, I never lost so much, but one day - this is what universalism is - you'll have an inkling, you will. And I thought of how I know that elephants feel it too. Elephants mourn did you know that? They stop and mourn if they pass a space where one of them died.

I thought on from there to the great romance, the death that's come with some of the romantic love I've felt. My vanity, and watching Snow White with A and M a couple moths ago, writing M's Match profile, such a good night of wine and ABC family but lemme tell you a little something about Snow White...

XOXOXO times one thousand
Alexis