You and I in a nutshell.
Lost eyes, lost smile, embrace lost me
The cigarette smoke was burning in her eyes. She didn’t mind so much, she was just glad it was him crossing her path in the middle of the night in a strange world underneath those strange, strange skies. The wind had been blowing up her hair in all sorts of directions ever since she started looking for him that day. It was cold, it had been cold for weeks really and although her whole body was chilled down to the bones she also never did seem to care that she had to roam these dark and freezing streets for the tiniest little chance to actually bump into him. The boy had the cigarette dangling in the very corner of his wide mouth. He was quiet. And he would hardly hold her gaze when she walked up to him. She thought that he looked particularly shy that night. Particularly charming too. Yes, she was glad it was him crossing her path.
“How are you?” she asked with a smile revealing how much she had longed way too long and much too genuinely for this moment.
How are you, her heart repeating inside, sent all sorts of sensations through her entire body. Was that really her voice he heard, really her smile he saw?
There was more talking but this simple question coming out of nowhere, in the middle of their conversation that brought out his humble and sweet personality made the whole thing what she always hoped it would be. She wanted to feel no barriers between them, no fake well wishing, holding his beauty in one hand, his grace in the other. Embracing the fact how she was special in some mysterious way completely opaque to her. Embracing all he made her feel, embracing his lost eyes taking in her lost everything.
T.O.N.I.G.H.T.
Mia’s all like:
So, what happened last Night, was me bumping into a person, who is very dear to me.
Basically, it was me against the rest of the world.
I went to the airport without knowing for sure he’d be coming in that day but I still went with high hopes, had my doubts along the way, wished for a while it wouldn’t happen for various reasons I won’t discuss openly but still sat there, letting two flights from London pass, ruled as unsuccessful. He came in on the third flight. And that’s when I saw all this bigotry and ugliness of the world crunched in two different kinds of people. There were the people who were taking pictures for a living and those who did it for the pure stupendously stupid sensation of meeting somebody famous. I stood in the middle, unsure of whether I should start crying or just start kicking everyone around me. I felt ashamed of even stepping up to him, let alone trying to get his attention, and that even though I sincerely do do do like this guy. There was not a single moment I didn’t feel the longing to just shoot everyone bothering him, and making sure he’s getting out of this mess safely. Truly, it was just a farce. There was absolutely NO regard of respect or distance or simple common courtesy. They were shoving the cameras in his face, there was no way for him getting through this unbelievable crowd of totally insane people. So many bystanders just stopping for the thrill of it, not even caring WHO he was. Getting his signature on a blank piece of paper to sell it on ebay, or to have others talk about how they’ve met a famous Hollywood Star. Yes, this is his job. And he might have signed up for getting recognized. Yes, but in this way? He most certainly did NOT sign up getting pushed for the best picture, getting touched or otherwise disturbed by people who don’t give a flying fuck about him or what he does.
I looked at him and I wanted to wrap him in a blanket and guide him out of there. He seemed shy and a little overwhelmed. And I hated myself for just being there. I don’t understand why in this world people who do this job get to be put up on a throne of some kind and get treated like animals in a Zoo. I don’t get it. Yes, he’s uncommonly beautiful, yes he’s talented and seems like the most humble and sweet person you could meet. And this might seem a little out of the ordinary for some people. But does that give you the right to treat him so very differently, treat him with so little respect? Why are there just the same faces, radiating ugliness and disrespect and stupidity and superficiality and senselessness, over and over and over at these kind of “events”? One simple rule. If you do not really care about the person, why bother waiting and bothering him? Just keep walking.
Why.do.you.even.stop.if.there’s.otherwise.not.a.moment.in.your.everyday.life.
he’s.on.your.mind? WHY?!?
I don’t understand this world. I don’t understand people. I’m just so sorry.
I’m sorry Jake, for this was truly not the way I pictured your arrival here. I’m so sorry.
Los Angeles- December 2010. The Roxy Pose.
I don’t know but something today brought me back to this day. We went to a show at the Roxy on Sunset that Night and there was this..WOMAN…she just entered the club, paid absolutely NO attention to the show going on on stage and just made THIS face to the cameras of her two friends for at least 30 Minutes or so. It was…hilarious…we were a little embarrassed for her because she looked like the biggest fool AND bitch at the same time. However, we were majorly impressed and amused by her stupidity and confidence. Deserved or not! I had to impersonate her pose right away. Therefore this picture will forever be hilarious in its very own special way.
THIS.IS.NOT.MY.USUAL.FACE
But god knows I was happy back then. It was Twenty Ten, an amazing year was about to end and I was in Los Angeles with my sister and nothing hurt.
The Perfect Stranger - revisited
Bowery Club of Poetry.
Art was my weapon, but now I’m defenseless…
Oh, you pig.
Oh, I’m the pig?!
Goodbye Twenty Eleven. 2012 is for Nothingness.
For You. For always. Happy New Year.
I think that,… when I felt your hand holding on to my wrist, the keys around my neck clattering and twisting, my favorite thing to do was forget who you are to this superficial, insincere world.
The Anatomy of your embrace
She knew that, when she got up that day, it wouldn’t be a good one. As soon as her eyes opened and she rushed to her leather jacket that had been carelessly dropped on the floor the night before, she knew, this would be one of those days. His perfume still lingered in the fine material of her jacket. Very faint, but it was there. The sweet scent he always left her with when they parted. It made her go back, the memories drowning her cry to stay in reality. His embrace that let her dive into him, and just the moment before she wanted to let go his arms shoveling her even tighter to his body,rocking her to the point of dizziness that even his hushing voice right next to her ear seemed distant. It was always that moment, when their embrace won that spark of seriousness others consistently lacked, that she knew she was Home. It was a different Home than the haunted one she constantly missed, maybe. But it was Home. He never felt anything less than Home.
November 20th 2011. Happy Anniversary. Two Years worth of Slaughter.
