I am dry and a little thirsty, my legs are sore, cause I actually did some walking today. 
 
I went up to the grave, and took her hand, "So you came back, " I said. "It was divine time there, nothing ever happens like it does here, it is beyond Our powers of comprehension. The Eternal created time but is outside it, I don't know what it was like, but I didn't like it,.. So here I am" 
 
"I am so glad you're back, and you don't look dead at all-" 
 
"How did you know I was coming?" 
 
"I made you come..." 
 
"Oh, you crazy..." she smiled, and then I smooched her. 
 
We walked along in the graveyard until we came to the monument of the Jacksons. It was semicicular with steps up to a bench beneath 5 pillars. I sat in shade of one pillar, and Desdemone sat at the other end, in the sun. She was wearing a light colored dress with a design of small flowers on it. But I imagined it white, and she looked like a roman woman, or maybe a greek goddess. 
 
It was incredibly windy, and a gust of wind tore the dress right off her. I  
didn't quite believe it, but there she was, sitting quite unaffected, nude on the cold white marble. I ran to get the dress. 
 
"That was pretty wierd, Des, here you go" 
 
But she had turned to marble. She was now a white marble statue, a part of the Jackson monument, although I thought, she is maybe inappropriate. Actually, I was chilled of scared I backed off, the dress still in my hand, and then I started to cry. I walked up next to her and hugged her, but she was still marble. 
 
God damn it, this isn't supposed to happen! Give me real life, not this stupid dream world. 
 
And I walked off, down the hill towards the lake. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I went to visit rabbi dan today, and learn about the holiday, Pesach 
 
 
 
 
 
She was sitting on the steps in green like talking to someone not here all the way. She is smaller than I remember and calmer, quieter, tame in a way, she is so pleasant, so nice, and she talked, asked. 
Her shoes were very worn out She's a little tired, unhealthy maybe, but that is dorm food. She has a green army jacket, and I am not sure overalls, I think, this time, a grungy blue jean, a striped shirt. I am afraid to be an unwonted, and I felt with her in away, but not all the way, I think the only reason was myself, and no plan for the future, for the future, I walked away. 
 
Her eyes pretty calm 
 
I can't remember what she looks like, just the feeling of her presence 
 
 
 
 
There's a lot of crazy people in seattle. Well, mentally not normal. For whatever reason, they are friendlier than many of the others, and a comfort. I can only guess, is their craziness a comfort, are they in their own world, are they in their own story, do they live their dream. What has happend to them, what made them so, what has their insight been. I want to short my mind like that, and walk through parks early in the morning, celebrating my history, telling everyone, and singing, living in the dream. I expect sometime they come out of it. I expect they are not, they have a friendliness and firceness, what must their sadness be? She said, "I wish I knew" when asked what makes her happy. What do you say now? "I don't even ask" 
 
Send me some music so I can play the piano, 
        I will find one and play 
I will find some music and play the piano 
        Do you or did you play? 
 
know about it all 
death old 
young fast 
but so because I think so 
 
 
{after some of The Octopus, Norris} 
"Why not just live it?", Vanamee said 
    "It hasn't happend, it might never happen" 
    "This way it can be perfect, I can be perfect and it will happen 
    hundreds of times. It will happen to each person who reads it" 
    "It isn't reality, you're just fooling yourself" 
    "Its just a substitute for life" 
    "I would much rather live it than just imagine" 
"If I were a greater person maybe I could force an interesting reality that would be strong not clouded by thoughts and hopes and imaginings and full of feeling made of solid events, not time wasted wishing" 
    "I will call her on Monday....now I want to rest just sleep and 
eat and read. There are no fruitful adventures worth seeking out here...The best are in these books and my head" 
"In the week my life starts again and adventure made interesting by the fact that it is reality and then I will do something, not just dream." 
    "how old and tired am I?" 
    "how many friends do I need to live constantly, and is it worth it? 
    or is this peace rest and freedom so precious?" 
    "I need people I can love to live really deep love and just 
love, that dark, thin, tall quiet girl and those kids" 
"I could go out to find some now, but I do not have enough motivation the life would be transitory if I found feeling, it would not likely last longer than an hour of one day" 
 
 
"The chance of me finding any great lasting experience when I am looking for it is minimal" 
"The likelyhood is of a distant melancholy everywhere with everyone, an occasional common smile and perhaps the sight of someone I know it is not worth it now. I want this time" 
"If I were a greater person maybe I could make it happen" "Maybe if I really tried" 
 
"I will save my self for the greatest ones I can pursue" 
 
         I AM A LOVER 
 
 
"sometimes even there is a great feeling, what next?   I don't or cannot 
pursue I might try" 
 
"So few work and last" 
 
"I see why you need to dream," Vanamee said, "Patience and wanting little, contentment, work for me" 
 
"You're not afraid to miss something?" 
 
"Or never know it again?" 
 
To seek a feeling is hopeless they just come and love is everywhere if you want it. 
 
What about special what about you this friendship? 
 
You can never lose your lonliness you can never lose your love 
What about human interaction? -the more the more experience 
 
"It's no different" Vanamee said, "You'll never have one without the other.  Take what you find and explore it while it is there miss it when it's gone, find new ones on your own or with others -accept it -don't fight 
 
fight like hell for it 
        no 
       just 
Work for it carefully and you'll never need to fight 
 
"Whatever, Vanamee" "I think I could be doing better things right now, 
but if I could, I would" 
 
"You move endlessly on through nature feeling always new -always lost 
 
"I live this life for awhile, and at times I'll imagine" 
 
he fell into the warm protoplasm. he spread his arms and his legs as he spun slowly down towards the light, he looking back into the darkness from where he fell. He could still see the stars and smell the cold air. But now as he looked he saw only the little dust of protozoa floating in the light dissappearing in the shadow of his slowly falling body. 
 
I wanted you to show me what you meant, to tell me what you felt to love me what you wanted. I want you to tell me what its like where you are, the blackness of the sky, the warmness of your brain. Cry and show me. Be quiet and tell me. Take me with you to the forest and show me the noise in your head. We go to the top and scream, we go to the bottom and cry. You look for hard work, I stop eating and do nothing for weeks. The man's paces through the floor. The sound is oppressive pervasive and he does not, he thinks constantly about it. Keys shaking his cart is still here he comes back the asshole. I love the guy in black with the scarf and eye shadow and stylished longish hair. Why because he shows me how I feel running about sighing the expression on his face is mine if I but expressed it but I am gone. he shocked, runs after the bus, going downtown where he stands by the ferry by and by he turns to the black men fishing smiling and asking about their nonexistant buckets he looks at the mountains across the way and the red clouds and he knows he is empty. He sits down on a bench and dies. 
 
That person over there is wearing blue jeans, they are a little tight and her legs are bent as she is sitting in the chair studying. She rests the side of her face on her open palm, and her black hair comes through her fingers. Her other hand is between her legs, her fingers under her left thigh, warm there. She moves her hair back with a little motion and brings her warm hand out to turn the page. The book sees her dark eyes moving slowly back and forth. Her cooling fingers feel the uneven edges of the pages she has already read, and she touches the bent up corners of the binding. She puts her fingers on the pages of the book and she feels a little of the difference in the printed letters and the bare pages. 
 
She lays her head down on the page and closes her eyes, starting to cry. She feels her tears on the edges of her eyelashes, She feels. She wants to hug the book, put her arms around it and feel its warm soft pages and smell its rust. She imagines a redwood tree. The book feels her ear pressed against it and memorizes her ridges of cartilage and the little soft hairs on her cheek. Looking into the darkness of her ear the book hears in this darkness what she is saying and the book hugs her, its pages curling up where the weight of her head and black hair is not upon it, just a little. The feathered corner of one page touches the white skin under her chin. She moves one hand to her stomach feeling its softness and feeling her side. 
 
She closes her eyes, touching her eyelids and she cannot start crying all the way. She starts to sleep and hears no sound, as it is softly quiet. 
 
 
 
I love you I love you 
    there    so do    I 
        and I am with out mind 
        so am I and I love you 
        you saw the other day 
        what went on they said 
        It now there is love 
        where did you leave the 
        place when your first eyes 
        were grey brown light brown 
        of value dark center and 
        a shine we will live out our lives 
       In the most beautiful town we have seen 
   I know you you are that person waiting. I've 
seen you there before, sometimes you look awhile there under that tree. Your coat is lighter than the bark and your hair darker than the shade of needles and your eyes dark black and you are pale white then a nicely brown pale white. From your pockets your hands and you stand leaning and waiting and it gets dark. I have seen you and know you...Your mind is not here, there in that fall in that country on that mountainside near the rock you saw that day. You fall down there and sleep alone and at home. The leaves fall and you watch them slipping down spinning slowly, scratching on the ground. 
 
You see there a wind. The cloud, the sky, a lake down there and 
that rock and where you sit that is all, that is all. I was there once, but I did not know. What alone there what alone. what alone. 
 
you sleep now close your eyes your head back against the trunk and your chin up. Sleep and laugh you smile then fade. 
 
    fade    Once blue then red sure where went green yellow so I 
lose and see so you go and hear. 
 
"What do you think?" 
    "I no longer think" as she slid down the bark to sit at the roots. 
"You know what was there?" 
    "I know what is there" 
 
        she put her hand on the ground    "It is cool" 
 
I stayed for a while, "stay for a while" 
    "sit down"         sat down cross those legs there 
close your eyes             I went to sleep in the cold and she smiles 
 
    "who did you know?"   I knew jill and sarah 
"I saw two only" 
    "and did they have these,?"   I am not sure 
"I did not see...." "You know them now, they have two friends, they are loving and their eyes blew, their eyes blue the flames red." 
    "I did not see their eyes." 
 
neither did you    "I did not" 
 
 
    "I miss you sarah"    "I miss you friend" 
    "I missed you that time, that all of time" 
    "time was riot what I saw. I saw you" 
    "I am afraid I am alone I am alive" 
    "I was" 
"I don't know any more" 
"I have known always" "I have always loved" I want to see you there. I want to be you. you are 
    I am. 
    I was. 
Did you     see   that    accordian? 
No 
I 
missed 
it. . . 
 
"I love you"  "I did"  "I am"  
 
 
I love you 
    loved 
 
 
 
DID you see that 
            accordian