I'm leaning against cold wet copper under a uniform-grey sky.

posted by jeremy on January 03, 2006

The wrong MAX buzzes to a stop in front of me. Inside, a young girl in her father's arms laughs as she looks at me & I laugh with her. A man carrying a black garbage bag gets off & walks up towards the mission. I notice the angry curl of scars across his shaved head. They look like knife wounds. I wonder his life. I wonder how it is that we get where we are. The MAX begins to move & the little girl waves at me & I wave right back. Rain falls & I light a cigarette, waiting for my train to arrive.

2006. The inertia of things. This great linear escapade. Stars are so old, our lives so bright & brief. I know nothing but this. These things I think & do & don't do. The MAX carries me over the Williamette as I look to our staggered habitations covering the hills of this valley. Mist hovers & adds a veneer of secrecy; Makes me want to walk long & explore deep. It makes me want hot honeyed coffee, another cigarette, the feel of rain running off high-tech nylon.

Yeah, I want to walk in those clouds. I want to feel at home here again. I am getting there. Getting here. Comfort creeps like a cougar, stalking the displaced jogger of my soul...

Christ, I write the stupidest things & then I share them with you.

At Mississippi & Albina, the MAX slows, stops. Outside three of the doors, Tri-Met inspectors step up to board, check fares, dispense citations to the poor, the cheap, the retarded, the utterly ticketless. I currently file under all of the above. I jump up, walk quickly thru the train towards the front & only unguarded door. It opens, I step off, an inspector shouts 'Hey!' behind me. I keep walking. Slip thru traffic. Yay! & get away.

At home I will check my Goddamyspace account, clean up the wreckage that the 4 of us here call home, I will read the news, drink an afternoon beer, write this snippet, shower & shave. I will find myself suddenly content in this tiny corner of the big bad universe. I will remember my dreams from last night (the most beautiful morning sky ever in that drowned city & she who was with me, she wanted beignets with ketchup. No way! I said but her stomach hurt & the hands on the clocks spun & spun & spun so fast) & I will remember that when I woke it wasn't with sadness or regret or anger but with an acceptance that begins to burn in me. A new way of looking at things, the itch of psychic healing finally (truly) begun, I think.

This bitch Life, she is indeed convoluted, mysterious & long. She has so many plot twist I can't begin to keep up... & above all, she is interesting as all fucking hell. You just gotta keep watching to see how it ends.