…june 13 2005…

Today I face my fears.  Today I face creating money,
being on my own, not knowing what the future holds,
and liking what I have created for myself.

Go towards what opens, leave what closes….

Last nite after talking with Alcir, I went on his writers’ site
as he had asked… he thought a virus had perhaps affected it…

And there… 4/26/05…. is a new “erotic poem”.  And
what am i to assume?
Is it about me?  how can it be?  Is it about Her…
…whichever her it might be?

How am I to know?  Yet the title is in Portuguese, and it
will not translate for me, and it seems like it’s either
“You Did Not Come”… or “Don’t  Come”…

It’s some sad poem that talks about never her,
not showing up at all, and never knowing his Love…
but something about not coming…. and
one could easily take that in several ways.

I call him…..  I am confused, as well as potentially angry and jealous.

About all he could offer me was to ask me if I was jealous…
He seems unwilling to give a straight answer, and unable
to just Talk about Anything…
There is no explanation, resolution, or sense made of any of it.

I am left with something akin to everything else right now….
Nothing is sure, and It’s all up to me.

Then I watch a film and I take down a quote…
“God is the principle of simplicity and unity that seems to be
underneath all the complexity at the surface of things.”

I like what i hear…..

…and this is from a group of top scientists and theologians
that had gathered in order to redefine God for the 21st century,
bringing spiritual and scientific value into greater harmony.

and then the Journal …

“She let him go.  He was an aquarian after all…. and what is
anything without freedom…”

This terrible letting go engulfed her, and she realized that
was all she could do.  Let go with Love… because that was
still there with all its prickly holdings.
But letting go of any semblance of Control was the only
path there for her.  It was the high road for both.

Somehow she got in this place, the place of releasing
him and herself from any expectations or obligations…
and then serendipity came along,
and this song kept on going round and round….
..and it was in an Angelina Jolie film she watched,
and it spoke the truth… and as tears fell, she
stood on its ground at that moment.

Love Song

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Home again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Whole again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

And for a Sexier Version… a newer cover by Adelle…

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am young again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am fun again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.

Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Free again.
Whenever I’m alone with you,
You make me feel like I am Clean again.

However far away,
I will always love you.
However long I stay,
I will always love you.
Whatever words I say,
I will always love you;
I will always love you.



…internal journal continues…

January 10 2005

She was lovesick.  Full of love and longing
and aching burning want.

The hollow pit that was her stomach hungered for him, prowled
the jungle for him, plodded swamps in the rainforest for him.
There was no face to bring into focus.  Eighteen years had left
a blur of pixel mixed elements that really made no sense.

The eyes.  The eyes couldn’t have changed much.  She held to
those eyes, large and dark, slanted with heavy lids.

The moment she beheld the eyes, she would know, she
would be home again.

But what if…. what if they couldn’t live up to their own memory?
He had begun mentioning faults… the bad knee, the bad ankle…
something about his face.
She’d know it…that perfect face.
“What happened?”, she queried.
“Did you see Scarface?”
“Ya..” she lied.  but she let the title take to her mind……
And then he snickered… something about operations and
moving something from here to there…his Cheek?
“You’ll see”, he finalized.

But to her, his scars were nothing.  Before, he was almost too perfect.
So gracefully handsome, so smooth skinned, the lines of the
swimmer’s body adding to his aristocratic elegance.
He would still be him.
She knew this, she held this to her breast like a child hungry
for comfort and sustenance.

But what about her?  Would she be enough like the girl he had
remembered, the girl he had been mesmerized by, as he had just
admitted to, but a week ago..?

She had been wounded too…by life, by love, by time and
other thieves.
Surely a sadder but wiser girl would stand before him.

Still she wondered about the directions they would take…

What will we Do with the new being that he and I will create?
What will be our goals, our directions, with all this Stuff that
we bring to the table between us….

I hope I can keep a perspective, and view myself clearly…
I want to stay in the present, fresh and awake, not reactive
from the past…
Can we both be in the same Place?

…holiday journal 2004…

After three weeks of conversation, after sharing memories
that seemed aligned and clarifying, it was nearing the end of
December, Christmas and the New Year soon to come.

During this time, that Poem had been sent, swooning me into
Cinderella dreams, dreams of my hero coming to whisk me away
to an exotic land and an adventurous, new life.

The next morning I called him… it was afternoon there…
“So… did you get the poem?…was it really bad?”
“No, it was good…it…it bowls me over.  You’re so Bold”
“So….what do you think?”
I pause, speechless for the moment.  Then softly, a whisper rises
from my heart…. yes…….yes…..yes, yes, Yes!
“So….you liked the poem That much?”
“No…I like You that much.”
“So… how do we do this?”
“One day at a time, I guess”
“Oh, like alcoholics….ok…I wan’ to kiss you right now”
“Well…our lips are each close to the phone…”
“I know where I’d like my lips to be…”  he trailed off….
…..I could see his smile…

“I can see you naked right now……I remember that”
“What do you remember?”
“Your nice big round butt…I love it…and your voluptuous tees …
…I’m getting hard…it hasn’t been used much in a while.”
“Me neither… two and a half years!”
“Oh, Tight”… his grin was audible.
“Ya… I guess I’m re-virginized.”

“I live on an island,” he began, “in the middle of this huge bay…
Guanabara… it’s Huge, 15 by 16 miles!  The only way to get off it
is by this bridge that is 21 miles long…”
“It’s the family estate, it’s fairly large.  It is where I was born.
They wan’ to sell it, but they can’t, as long as I’m here.
They keep offering me Peanuts…peanuts and banana peels…
But I don’ wan’ banana peels…I wan’ the Banana!”

The next time we talk, he inserts
“…So…that poem I wrote?  I meant Every word.”
And later he comes back with his frustration…
“So…how are we going to Do this thing?  Are we gonna keep on
with this telephone bullshit?”

So it’s Christmas Eve, and I call him as requested.  I have a
phone card that is so amazingly cheap, it only makes sense, and
so we have our own little party, drinking and chattering,  as though
we are really together, and laughing our guts out, on and on,  for
three or four Hours!
It was the closest we’d gotten yet to being together.

He began telling me all the things he wanted to do to me…
“I like holes…. places I can put inside…” with which the laughter just
exploded out of me…. bwahahahahaha!.
Later he said he was hard again….
“Oh… I think I’m gonna have to peel the banana tonight.”

He told me things he’d never said.  He said things about the first
time he saw me, when he saw my body…. he talked about his
Tahoe girlfriend, back when we’d first met.  He said it was nothing,
something about how she was more like a friend, and not a
girlfriend, but I didn’t get much more.

I don’t know if he’s Ever really been in Real Love.  He’s a Romantic
turned Cynic… but in there, he does want a True Love…
“Somebody by my side” he told me…
“If I had someone by my side…”, and I told him that he Did.
“I’m Here…Alcir, I’m here.  You’re Home my darling…”
“..oh…woman…  what are you doing to me?”……
It came softly, and from a distance.

At first when I had called him, his daughter V was still up,
and he was laughing.
“Oh NO!… what deed you doo?  Did you farted?  Oh,
I can’ belive it.  My beautiful little daughter farted…”
All of us started laughing, all of us.

“You know… it’s wrong for fathers to have daughters, because
we are raised to believe you people don’ shit or piss or fart.
Nothing smells….an’ then we hav’ a daughter, an we fine out
all these theeengs.  It destroys all our fantasies!
The myths are Gone…. ”  he was laughing deeply now.
“She has Brake marks in her shorts!”

He had made a complete Christmas dinner, for the two of them,
and for his aunt.
Turkey, rice farofa, some sweet potato thing, some kind of pupu
which lost me in the translation…
White wine the first night, red the second…
“Is this some sort of tradition?” I asked.
“No…jes’ a good way to get drunk…”

Vitoria could hardly handle the wait for midnite, to open her presents.
At one point, she was crying for him to come lie down with her…
I almost hung up, to call him later, but then he said…
“Oh wait…she’s stopped…her eyes are closing.”
and then he asked “Know what I’ve got in my hand right now?”
“Your cock?” I offered…. and a breathy snicker came forth…
“A nice little gram, and now that my daughter’s aslip…wan’ one?”