Reset rewind – the tune is coming in

Back in from the sun, the walking, the tender direct.

Some writers would like their writing to remain present and powerful. Sometimes I just wish things I’d written would just go away.

25 June 2008

Biopsy: the removal for diagnostic study of a piece of tissue from a living body.

Friendship: the state of being a friend; association as friends.

Melancholy: soberly thoughtful; pensive.

The biopsy

(the strangely okay medical nature of it; how nice my doctor is; the residual feeling of it; the ache of it in the belly and in the heart; the knowing again of what we already know; the fucking bill of it, Christ, what’s with my financial management skills?)

and the movie about the friendship

(our friendship; that friendship; the changes that are friendship; seeing it without Trish; the length of it; the losses we bear all in the name of it; the hunt for love; the finding of love; the unmasking of love; the bitter choices of it)

make me feel strangely melancholy.

(I want more wine; I want more night; I want more sleep; I need more walking; I want less talking; even as I articulated it I got it wrong to you all – I don’t feel fine, I feel utterly fucking over it; I stare out over the roof tops and even Beirut skyline won’t make this better; I have a Sister Bella and you say that thing, the thing I think I wanted to hear, that maybe spending your life with me would have been enough, but did I want to hear it from you?; the light is shifting across the sky; you are asleep and you look like a child, the way you always do when you are sleeping; somewhere Bill is doing what Bill does; I wish that there was someone who would take care of me, and in doing so, they’d just know exactly what to do about it, they’d arrive after work, in the car, with a meat pie and an ice coffee Big M – road trip food – and they would drive me up the hill, up the mountain, to the lookout, the saddest CD of mixed songs would be playing Jolie, they’d hand me my gloves and we’d get out of the car, stare down at the city which is all lights and all suburban dreams and they would hold me and let me weep.)