A Dizzy In The Lizzy
( 09/ 04/ 2; 02; 09) - sometimes it's just better to write a poem and then lose it...
Yesterday I wrote a big long poem in the Dizzy about anger and pain and getting over them in the near future. It involved onions, and tunnels and launch pads and all sorts of crap. It was long. Then the admin tool decided I had spent too long posting and it deleted my post.
All is not lost, however, as I picked up another installment of Charles Bukowski yesterday.
This is a poem of his entitled "40,000 flies":
torn by a temporary wind
we come back together again
check walls and ceilings for cracks and
the eternal spiders
wonder if there will be one more
woman
now
40,000 flies running the arms of my
soul
singing
"I met a million dollar baby in a
5 and 10 cent
store"
arms of my soul?
flies?
singing?
what kind of shit is
this?
it's so easy to be a poet
and so hard to be
a man.
( 08/ 31/ 2; 02; 08) - In CT...
Well, I got home this morning to help my bros paint my Dad's house here in CT.
The old man really did take all my silk boxer shorts.
Little fucker.
( 08/ 30/ 2; 02; 10) - Subway Poetry. We R the lifeblood of this city, keepng her alive by travlng cnstantly thru her veins
I have a muse who acts as my voice of reason from afar. She's wonderful; she seems to understand me, so I listen to her. My muse says to be careful dragging my old & heavy baggage into any new relationships. She's right, it would be doing Steph an injustice to try to pull any of my past into this relationship. What does Steph have to do with Katie? Nothing- they grew up in the same city but on different planets.
I'm certainly going to try to take this one as it comes; Steph is great, I should be thankful that we found eachother.
She's all thistles and burdocks on the outside, all Tempurpedic pillows and marshmallow fluff on the inside.
Last night I told her she was a sweetie and her response was "Shh! Don't tell anyone. I'm only sweet with you."
I don't know why, but I find that endearing.
Tonight my brother and I drive to CT to paint Dad's house. With the weather threatening to turn ugly, the job may not get finished, or even started. But it will be nice to be back home for the long weekend, awash in beer, sleeping late...
I was going to roshambo my brother for driving duties (NYC to CT, although short, can be tedious). But Wednesday he told me that I'm driving tonight, and that he would like to be picked up at the sake bar at 8PM. What a fucker.
Life could be worse- it's hard to step back and realize when things are going well and appreciate that all by itself. But I'm trying.
"The apparition of faces in the crowd
Petals on a wet, black bough."
( 08/ 29/ 2; 02; 12) - I'm the man, I am...
"Dear Mr. Kline,
On behalf of BMW of North America, LLC, we want to thank you for participating in The Ultimate Drive? for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.
Over the past five years, BMW has donated over $5 million for breast cancer research, education, screening and treatment. Now in the sixth year of the program, our goal is to raise another $1 million for the Komen Foundation in 2002. Through your participation, and that of the thousands of other participants that are driven to find a cure, we are one step closer to this year's million-mile goal."
You're welcome.
( 08/ 28/ 2; 02; 05) - pointless post/end of Hump Day
Whew. Hump day is over. Gonna buy myself a cut of filet mignon for dinner, then go to the gym, then maybe chill with my girl.
Last night I bought her a shot of Jaegermeister. She was bombed an hour later. Cheap date.
I'm too tired for stories, non-sequiters, anecdotes, life-affirming statements...
Yet I can't complain.
I think that's a good thing. Life slowly returns to normal. I'm just gonna flow with things for a while and think about how I feel later on.
B
( 08/ 27/ 2; 02; 05) - So Fresh and so clean
5:16PM on a Tuesday. Cognitive abilities approaching zero.
Just banged my knee into my computer in a fit of frustration over a huge forward that I was supposed to relay to someone; computer rebooted itself. Had to use stress ball to keep from decapitating an innocent.
Realized that, in this quiet mental temper tantrum, my right eyelid is not twitching. It twitched for a couple months a while back. I didn't notice when this stopped, but looking back it seems the twitch was due to stress related to my breakup with Katie.
That it has gone away quietly is indicative of a more relaxed state of mind, an emotional plateau (present work-related rage notwithstanding).
Katie has escaped my priority list entirely. Called her the other day to tell her I ran into a friend of hers who hasn't seen her for a while and was putting together a party; I had given him her number so he could call her. Spoke to her for 5 or 10 minutes; she asked what I was doing on Friday. Sorry, I'm busy. Monday? Sorry, I'm busy.
That felt good.
Screw her. I'll spend my time with a woman who appreciates me, who tells me things... oh fuck, who is, at this stage, telling me the exact things that Katie was telling me 2 1/2 years ago. "Benny, you're so wonderful." "I can't wait to kiss you again." "You make me laugh all the time!" "I love spending time with you."
I'm not sure how I feel about that. Eventually I'll have to tell Steph that I've lost a little faith in the power of love, and that it has nothing to do with her, really. Or maybe she reads the Lizzy after all and she'll find out herself.
It's Katie, all Katie. All her late night confessions, the seemingly heart-felt love letters she wrote me, the way I thought she could see right through my eyes into my soul. It all seems like a sham now. Where does all that emotion go? Yeah, thanks for sticking by me after my mom died. That was great. But forcing me to be happy when I was miserable? No thanks. Making me desperate for some sort of physical affection? No thanks. Sleeping with that guy? No thank you, I know who it is now. You managed to keep the faith for six months, after that I guess you crossed some sort of point-of-no-return. I'll never understand how or why love slips away but I now have proof that it does. Thank you for that, Katie.
I'm not even bitter, although it sounds like I am. I am more guarded, I am smarter. I play my cards closer to my chest. I am one man, on my own, versus the world. And I can make it, I know I can. I have the final say in my life now and forever.
Steph, if you read this, you probably know more than you should about me at this point. That's fine, I have nothing to hide from you or anyone. You just have to know that you discovered me directly after the absolute worst year of my life, a year that changed me radically inside my head, and yet almost imperceptibly to the outside observer.
The T2000 can look exactly like the original Terminator if he chooses. Yet when you throw a punch at him and your fist sinks into his face, you instantly realize that this is something else entirely.
How many words will be dedicated to this lost love before I get it out of my system? I don't know, but for now I will appreciate what I have: a woman who finds me as enthralling as I find her. Fresh and new and exciting these times are. The faster you run the less you think about what's behind you.
Running running running running... don't think, Benny, just keep running.
( 08/ 22/ 2; 02; 01) - I am the Army
I went to Carl Shultz Park last night along the East River with my girl and her pit bull and 2 of her friends.
After a few rousing games of "Watch the Angry Dog Chase Huge Rats" and "Keep the Fighting Pitbull Away from the Punt Dogs", we wandered to some benches to sit down.
Along the way I found a bumper sticker from what must be the US Army's campaign to recruit Hispanic-Americans.
Instead of the new "An Army of One" slogan, splashed across the sticker was "Yo Soy el Army."
I am the Army.
I AM THE FUCKING ARMY!
DO YOU REALLY WANT TO FUCK WITH ME?! I AM THE U.S. FUCKING ARMY!!!!
Can you imagine one person possessing the firepower of the US Army?! That's sick.
Like in Batman:
"Who are you?"
"I'm Batman."
No.
"Who are you?"
"I AM THE ARMY."
"Whoa, back off there, killer..."
That would be bad-ass. I put the sticker on the bottom of my skateboard, alongside the "Your kids are tripping" sticker.
No more news.
Steph is cool.
( 08/ 21/ 2; 02; 11) - Chapters begin and end but the book of you is an epic poem
Last night was sort of Zen-like for me in that I came to some realization/revelations about myself and my life.
A coworker lent me "A Beautiful Mind" on DVD and I watched it last night after work.
The plot itself is inconsequential. I enjoyed the flick, although I wasn't blown away. I was nonplussed at the fact that it took place at Princeton U. from which my ex just graduated. See, PTon holds many, many memories. So many happy(and terrible) times in my life have taken place there with this girl that it's really impossible to separate the goings-on of the movie from my own memories of my time there. (When you date someone who goes to another school, that place becomes a part of you, like a second home, whether you like it or not.) Each time John Nash "enters campus" in the movie, he walks up some stairs under an arch, Blair Arch to be exact, under which I myself walked on dozens of occasions, hand-in-hand with my honey. It was also the approximate location of a very painful conversation during our breakup as we walked to her dorm from lunch at some restaurant. And I swear I saw the steps of her dorm for about 5 seconds during one scene.
So while I thought about all of this I realized that that chapter of my life, the one that involved Princeton & my ex, is over. I am beginning a new chapter now, and as is usually the case, each chapter builds upon the previous chapters to form a complete story. I am not mad at Katie anymore. I loved her very dearly and truly with all of my heart, and while my love for her has changed a lot from what it used to be, I still love her as a person, and I will for the rest of my life. I only want the best for her. I hope she lives long and well and I hope one day I get to see her name in lights on Broadway, as she has always dreamed. And I hope that at some point we can put the past behind us and maintain some sort of friendship.
But the future is bright for me either way. I've found that when you let new people into your life and your mind gradually and with patience, and you maintain a certain level of honesty and integrity, then only good things can happen. As Steph and I learn more about eachother, all the little discoveries feel like Christmas. I don't want to jump the gun with her or with any relationship but she seems like the kind of girl I could really get into. A couple months ago I was still nursing my wounds. I was not emotionally available to anyone. But as I heal my capacity for compassion and caring has gone up. I didn't mean to get into a relationship just now, but it seems that one is blossoming, although I don't really feel as if I'm putting too much effort into it just yet. More to come...
( 08/ 20/ 2; 02; 12) - In case there were ever any doubts about the validity of my statements...
Steph finally emailed me a pic of her mom back in the day. I guess Harley ads have always featured Playboy bunnies pretty frequently. Gotta figure... Her mom is blonde but they dyed her hair dark for the photo shoot.
Needless to say, I'm pretty psyched about this girl. At first she seemed really hardcore but she tells me sweet things like she loves getting emails and messages from me, and that she enjoys seeing me. Leads me to believe that she's not quite as gnarly on the inside...
( 08/ 19/ 2; 02; 11) - So there's a new girl around.
I may have met my match.
This girl stopped by last night with her fighting pit bull, Rebel, to drop off some Xanax.
Need I say more?
I will:
Her mom was a Playboy Bunny. The Head Bunny. She's 63 now, so I'm guessing this was in the 60s.
Hot damn... she has a knife collection too...
The Dizzy may get exciting soon...