Bloody Fucking Hell

It is with anxiety, perhaps bordering on apprehension, that I depart for London today. Or maybe not apprehension, as I'm not particularly pessimistic about any aspect of the journey, but it's just kind of been one of those mornings, a morning filled with places, things, and events that don't really piss you off, just kind of irk you and make you think.

Like the fifteen saline washings my eyes had to endure prior to finally accepting the contact lenses they've worn (almost) without fail since January 1, 1996, or the fact that there actually IS a tracking system in place thanks to the wonderful Homeland Security Department, or that I'm torn between a feeling of vengeful satisfaction and empathetic discontent over the fact that all but one of my sister's friends stood her up on her birthday, a day she claimed I ruined although all I did was deliver her a heartfelt card and gift bag while she inconisderately napped on the couch next to me, waking only to spew out some insult or commentary.

One of those mornings. Ugh.

I guess I'm also kind of nervous about being gone for a month. Like having everything I need (and incidentally most of what I own), 52 pounds of it, crammed into some backpack, the integrity of whose assembly I question despite it's nearly $200 price tag. Or not being able to just pick up the phone (well, without a bankruptcy-enducing bill when I get home) and talk if I need to. Or being (essentially) in the company of strangers for a whole day and then for a week at the close of my trip. It's all very uncertain and although I've traveled in most cities in the UNited States, I'm preparing myself for a different world and I can only hope I've done it properly.

On the upside--well, in terms of slutiness--I was informed that Saturday night at infamous London Club G-A-Y (an original name indeed) is a stop-light night; that is, green tops means single, yellow open relationship, and red is committed (and a color I hope I don't see--everyone knows how I feel about "monagamous" people going to nightclubs, because it's not like they're just enjoying the scenery). Anyway, I don't own anything green, and I'm wearing a yellow top that day, so I'll just have to take one of their stickers, but if all this wasn't good enough, everyone is given a dog tag (affectionately called "shag tag" where people can like use your number and contact you through messages and vice versa. It's like the internet, just less (potentially) shady--I love it! Foreskin(s), here I come!

I've just been served Breakfast on the plane and I was very anxious (as I'm hungry) yet apprehensive (eggs don't always agree with me; I chose the omlette) about it as well. It appears that my apprehension was warranted here; the omelette was filled with sour cream, one of the five blanched banes of my existences (mayonaisse and cream cheese among the others). So that sucks. The crackers were good though, and I had some nice fruit.

The plane itself and the people in it are interesting, if not somewhat pleasant. I'm on a 777, one step down from a 747, my dream plane. As such, it's still garagantuan, and as it's a newer model it's a little bit nicer than what a 747 would probably be like, but oh well. I am surrounded by five different people (six includin myself), and it's almost as if the plain is tiered based on talkativity: the two people in front of me have not yet removed their headphones or spoken a word to anyone; myself and the (very nice) guy beside me talked a little bit about things and he was very friendly and also happens to be sporting and iPod and iBook like me (though his are undoubtedly less junky); the two people behind me are probably about 30 years apart in age and several countries apart on the alphabetical list of nationalities and are talking each others--and my--ear off. The one is a cute-ish, supposedly gay "boy", by which I mean boyish looking but obviously no less than thirty years of age, who is naively--and NOT in a cute way--asking every bit of twenty questions to the--Belgian? (edit: he mentioned living conditions of Kiev, so he's probably Ukranian)--next to him. Very interesting, but not bad. It just is.

As I sit here and try and distract myself from the six hours, thirteen minutes left of our flight as I pass for the first time over airspace not belonging to the US, I am taken back to late last sleepless night and my forty nine minute, ten second conversation with Korrin. Although we've always had a connection and I've always loved her like a sister, it's only been in the past couple weeks of hanging out, and indeed in last night's conversation, that I realize how much like her I really am, and how close we really are. I honestly love the girl and I hope she's not as depressed as I think she is, or as I am.

The past few hours was also highlighted by calls from many other people I love, including my mother, the wonderful Lockwoods from Austin (who, if they are reading, REALLY need to push forward in the move to adopt me) and Jill, who called me from Belgium. She's so incredibly sweet for thinking so highly of me and our time together at the Tampa Airport Friday's was among the most meaningful simplistic hours I've spent in my life. I truly love her and can't wait to see her.

I suppose I've blabbed on enough for today and hopefully to make up for half the month of May where I said nothing. As I'm NOT publishing this in real time, I'm sure I'll make some sort of addendum before the conclusion of this flight or at the very least before finding an internet connection sometime tomorrow.

Is it Thursday yet? I need to hear some live T-dawg.

Oh well. I am going try and work on some poetry lately, pieces of which have been coming at me all week. Maybe if y'all are lucky you will get some of that posted with this.

*edit* - I DO have the poetry and my cell phone DEFINITELY doesn't work here. Mrrrrgh.

"Threshold"

the arrogance of youth stink a little bit more
as each years blows by me to tell me it's passed
and each year i look back at the older child that passed on
and envy him a little bit more than the last

and wisdom is overrated
and yes i am devastated
and yes it was just a shell of mine
that was with you enamored
how do you plan to cushion my fall
from all the way up there
attached to your bungee cord?

the flesh of this fruit blackens a little more
as the threshold of ripeness blows it by
and my disillusionment deepens
as we fued
and the fjord
between you and i
and us
becomes a little wider
please just say you want to try

i know i'd like to make a pass
and i think in time we could come to terms
and maybe get over this pluralism
this boarding school of thought in which you and I seem interned

you and i are overrated
and i only hope you're devastated
that this shell of yours is emaciated
and maybe--bare bones--you'll cling to me for support
a saviour rendered a life vest
Wrapped around your bare chest
all the way up there
dangling from our bungee cord

*****
"base line"
So you finally got it out of me
With penetrating eloquence
From "maybe"
To "perhaps"
To "well..."
Then "O.K, yes"

O.K. yes
I spilled it
Entrails dessicating
Perhaps they would slow down
If you'd stop hesitating

And all I said was what I thought
You'd want to think you meant to me
Because all we are is the sum of everything we used to be
And I used to be half
And you used to be whole
So I guess this summations a bit overblown
A bit oversized
But you know I think that's fine
I can take you to the base
And all I want's the base line
All I want is the base line

So I took hold of your hand
And I planned to let go
But I squeezed twice as hard
So your fear wouldn't show
When he looked right down at you
Started you in the eye
And I shook slightly
Frowned
And knew
Our end was nigh

But I turned the key
And you pressed down play
And I longed to hear the wrong note hit
As we drove away
And you hinted at so much cacaphony
I heard but wouldn't listen
Couldn't bear not seeing you warm skin glistening

And all I said was what I thought
You'd want to think you meant to me
Because all we are is the sum of everything we used to be
And I used to be half
And you used to be whole
So I guess this summations a bit overblown
A bit oversized
But you know I think that's fine
I can take you to the base
And all I want's the base line
All I want is the base line

Just another almost June night
But fumes of furnaces will the air
Just another stark truth
I try to lie and pretend
I've gotten plenty of flies with this vinegar
So how about some gentlemen?

And all I said was what I thought
You'd want to think you meant to me
Because all we are is the sum of everything we used to be
And you said you loved repeating propaganda
To the wrong people
At the right time
So why could you have not humored me with just one "no"?
Just one of your breaths
Just a base line