Pick Your Vintage

Could I love her? Do I love her? Yes. Yes. Yes.
but the day doesn't stop there. There will be hard things, sharp things. Knives around the corner and when they stab do you swear? scream? embrace the stabber? what if it's her. A knife she didn't know she was carrying. Will you look with those "soul of love" eyes, bleeding....her shocked that the blood stained hands are hers. She wants to explain. To take it back. But the wound is there. Unintentional attacker. All of those who hurt have been hurt. And when she's not looking I'll cry for myself...as sudden as surprise...because i can't bear to see her unable to see me hurting. So I heal myself. Shaken alone around a bend when she isn't looking. If she knew how deep it went it would cut her too. It would feel like she had cut herself.

I need to be worshiping at my own temple. Spending just a little too much time at others' temples. Mine's developed a draft. The goddess hasn't been home to clean her house. To host...in quite some time. So tonight. I'll be lining the entry with marigolds, closing the doors to visitors. Lighting the fires, warming the beds.

My reality needs a little attention. The dust has gathered, the webs have grown. But there is still the ember of life here, glowing amber and desiring air. The torn tapestries need replacing, the peace waits for invitation. It still carries the memory of one of the most holy places in existence...with drape skirted priestesses and royal colors, and baths filled with rose water and incense newly lingering in the halls. It is a warm place. And when it has been taken care of, the gates will be opened. I will invite music and mirth and poetry. I will sit inside myself and take audience and give audience. And I will remove the knife I've been given so I don't stab in turn.

And if I worship alone. I die in the knowledge of myself. It is as holy as anything can be. So long as I remember and choose it.

reneé

more than anything in this moment...I want us both to trust that we will love one another. because belief is all there is in this. there is plenty evidence...but no proofs....only faith makes the words full of meaning. I must begin...I must trust her to love me...even though there may be times of being unloving. She is capable of loving me. Perhaps most capable.

Dear Edie and Bob,
I'm afraid you don't know your daughter. Or else this letter wouldn't be here. Her friends want to tell you how lovable she is, that she tries so hard to do the right thing. They want you to know that she deserves better, than what you've been saying, and how you've been thinking about her. They're sad you're missing out...on this wonderful person for you to be proud of. She isn't a cause for embarrassment. She's one of the most loving people they know. She cares so much about you, and loves you more truly than most children. She can't change what makes her happy, nor can she change what will make you happy. She only wishes for your happiness and her own. She wishes they could co-exist. She talks about you all the time, about how much she loves you and the good memories she has growing up. She talks about how your arms used to feel the safest in the world, and how you used to be proud of her.

But things have changed. Not with who she is...but how you see her. She is still looking for loving relationships. She is still trying to be her own person, and true to herself as she was created. But who she is, is not who you want her to be...or what you feel proud of, or accept. Though it hurts no one, but increases the love in this world...you punish her for what she has found. Though it may increase her joy and her ability to know the love of God, you banish her love as an abomination of God. Does God not command her also to be happy? To know joy? Not just to avoid the things that hurt, but to find the things that heal? Isn't finding joy in this life a way of being gracious for the life she has been given? Isn't her love a gratitude to a creator who created solely for that purpose?

Why do you not see her? Can't you see how much she needs you right now? Can't you see how much she would like to share the most precious experience in her life? Finding true love...and someone to share herself with. Someone to share her dreams and ideas with. Someone to share her precious and unique self with. Your one and only daughter wasn't looking for just anyone. She was looking for one. She did not, could not, settle. With all of her experiences, can't you see that this was a well contemplated choice. Not a choice of genders, but a choice of persons. She would not share herself with anyone. Only the best, because the best is what you taught her that she deserved.

Why are you now, not acting deserving of her?

She deserves your love. She desires your love. She has done nothing to hurt you...except in being your daughter. And being herself. She loves you. How long will you seek to embrace your idea of her, rather than HER. Your arms end up full of vacant dead air....a mirage of yourself that you wanted to see in her. The real Michelle is much more to be proud of. She is real. She is brave, and strong, and will do much to make this world a more beautiful place.

Stop grieving. For every moment you grieve your loss of a dead idea, you miss out on the life and vitality of your daughter...your only daughter. All she has done is come into herself. You did not know what that was when she was conceived or born. You still do not know. And you will never know until you ask her. She has gone the hard journey of finding it, and still finds it. God has not wasted her journey nor her struggles but blessed her. Why should you do other than bless her?

You will know her when you want to. It is up to you. Don't miss out on one moment of her life, or she will learn how not to miss you.

Be kind.
Speak lovingly.
Accept reality.
Take joy in her joy.
Embrace even what you do not approve. For we do not embrace ideas..but people, and Michelle has no family to hold her.
Do not turn happiness into regret. Do not try to twist good into evil, or else you become the bearer of sin.

It is her table, it is her meat....then let her eat.

Love,
Me

I want to enter you with my eyes and equally cover you.
I want to wrap you in my skins through your winters
and melt the flakes off your lashes with my breath.
In the cold wasteland that wastes nothing...
I will be your trading post,
my stores are open to you.
The drifts are not as deep as my warm wells...
and you can take respite there.
Shelter in me. The cedar is strong
and the spirits able to protect and heal.

We are strange fish who breed in deep waters.
In our infancy with one another the ocean may obscure our sight.
But the strong sun has a ray that reaches you.
With or without sight our home is found instinctually.
We need no words.
Beauty is in being.

Julie....
I love her
I LOVE her.
I LOVE HER.

I had a dream of your lover
And I don't remember his name
but his eyes made a glance sound like a stare
and you'd fall into peices there

his ways were sure, he knew them,
no guessing

he didn't have opinions about things that were, they were.
it wasn't that he might be right, he was
or had nothing to say about the matter
you had to make up your own mind

and you were a better man from being around him
you learned all your yes's and no's
it's not that that we're any maybe's
but you waited for info on those

he never reproached your questions
ask all you want then 10 more
but at the end of the day it's your decision
you're the one to make the choice

how can a man be sensitive for you, but know you enough to tell you what's wrong
true judgment and you listen correctly,

What is dignity?
Dignity is taking bowel movements in public and choosing to stay alive anyway because your partner loves you.
Dignity is allowing a stranger to bathe you because your partner needs five minutes to himself.
Dignity is accepting grace when you cough uncontrollably through someone else's conversation.
Dignity is allowing your lack of control to become your strength.
Dignity is crying in the middle of the night because it's more than you can bear.

Dignity is not looking strong when everthing is decomposing
Dignity is not acting like there's no pain, and no fear, no problem.
Dignity is not acting like no one is dying, so why make plans?

Dignity is being willing to cry, swear, spit, curse, and do it again because it's your last chance to.
Dignity is making all of your friends come over so even if they won't say goodbye, you can.
Dignity is taking the time to say all those mushy things when you can...because you won't know when you can't.
Dignity is looking everyone in the eye, because you don't know when you'll see them again.
Dignity is loving with your whole heart, even when all they can do is say they'll miss you.
Dignity is joy in sorrow.
Dignity is a 73 year old man named Kenneth, dying of cancer, lying all day in bed, waiting to go home.
My spiritual father and my friend,
I love you.

Michelle

I may be your ex but you're not my "why"
Don't worry darling, it will be alright. I'll make your thoughts go to sleep at night. When you're wandering on wondering, fail safe, make straight, occurances, re-emergences.
We had a good thing...it's still a good thing, but a different thing then you've been desiring.
In another life you were mine I was yours, but karma plays unfunny jokes.

I may be your X, but honey, you're not my Y.
I fill you, but still leave a little dry.
I complete some need, some hidden dream.
Home, safety, domestic and clean.
I'm dangerous and you know it.
I won't say yes and I won't say no.
No you're not the first, you're not even the only
and I want something I have for once. Want desire, now.
I have now...
peace...
if this was all that there was, it would be everything.
I may be your X, but you're not my Y.
Only one Y to fill in the blank...not fill it, be it.

And silly thing is, I'm not X to my Y. But there's another X. And this X doesn't hold my Y as their Y, but another Y.

Circular reciprocity. Soul circle. I am his, and you are mine, and someone else will want you too. He wants someone else as I do. And you'll want someone else too.

I may be your X but you are not my Y.

Things left over, mystery, patience, chemistry. What to do with these things lying cluttering our hallways?

Never was there a lack of love, only a knowing that can't be learned. A sentiment that can't be earned.

It's never a problem for me to fall...
It's never a problem to be fallen into...
Only a problem to give where it's given...take where it's taken.

XY? XX? XY? YY?

Symetry...impossibility...it takes a vilage for me.

P.S. My village makes me warm. Warm Warm Warm, boardering hot, then crimson. From here to there the landscape of my body knows you, feels you, warming each part of me. A respective collectivity.

So much has happened. I am moving back to the states. As of tomorrow.
I'm not sure if that means I'm more available or not. I'm not sure it matters.

I have been to the brink of love recently. I had to pull away from it, and only just soon enough. I'm still a bit broken. Break-ups make me wonder if I'll ever find a mate I'd be happy with. Somehow I know that companionship just isn't enough. I'm beginning to believe that I will put myself through an isolated existence. I'm beginning to wonder if that's so bad.

No. Not so bad, not so long as I have suffucient unmarried friends who will cuddle me from time to time. I'm at the beginning of something new. I like newness. I am currently sitting on my couch that I won't sit on again for years. I fully expect not to have a home again for that long. I fully expect to be a vagabond, and to throw out the things I am now saving because by then I will have learned just how little they all mean.

I finished university. I am starting to learn how to fly airplanes. What else? I hope to be writing more. What else? I don't want to go to school again for some time. More than that? I don't have nearly as much time as I would have imagined once being out.

Looking at my house soon to be abandoned, I don't feel sad. I don't feel anything. I feel myself coming anew. I'm hoping it is healthy new. I want to push through this sort of pain and emerge a better person. I want to stop from induldging in my flaws. I want to know my flaws. I want to be healthy. I want to be me.

Enough complaining.

Here's the girl many of you never had a face for. For now I'll stay a sphynx.
Other updates too, if you've noticed. I'm not happy with it yet, but change is good.

Lots of love to the lavender fields that wait for me.
Lots of love for Gail Schell, who died yesterday, whose son I dated in high school.
I hope to meet her soon. Here's to her reincarnating into a crystal child. In her own way, she already was one.
It sucks not to be able to say goodbye.
Memories...

"M" word.

Thanks for those who have added me. I guess I should post more. But I don't. I'm a little stressed these days. My soul went on a vacation this week, and only today, in the crisis of absence, I'm present again. Moments in between have been good.

Kinnie Star
Tanya Tagaq.

Awesome. Throat singing kind of turns my whole body on.

I love my friends. They are awesome. Especially ones that buy me brie.
I have oficially been taken care of. A strange position for me to be in.

High-Low Michelle

One week until school starts...again. I swear this will be the last time for a while.

I've decided to move to San Juan Island in February. I haven't told my friends yet. Or at least not the ones who could possibly be upset by it. I will though. It isn't so far. I'm being called, what's a person supposed to do?

Michelle

By the way, am I the only girl in the world whose guy friends send them mail about girls as if I were not one of them? I'm not complaining of the honesty, just the absent mindedness.

"Gonna be a good girl," she says, undoing down buttons.

A friend told me it was innappropriate to give up masturbation for lent. I don't know if it's because it's not doable for an extended period of time, or if it's because we pin up our offerings on the church bullitin board every year.

Pin...ohhh..tshhhhhh, ummmm.....uh...uhhhhhh,
ooooo, right there. Yeah.


Is it ok if you're praying while you do it?

Bad Girls Go To Berlin.

I'm going to Kentucky you hosers!
That's right, chicken town! maybe I'll find a greasy compatriate along the way and make lots of babies. Maybe it will be the best thing that could happen to a well educated woman. Either way, it's miles of road ahead. And you're not invited. This is mine. Mine and hers. Her is a different her than usual. For all my knowing it's the original her. The first her known to my existence. Apart from recent events, she's the closest I've been to being inside another woman's vagina. And I never leave the way I came. Not even with her. We won't leave eachother the way we came.

On another note, I wrote a short film. It's good. It's about more hers.
Some of my friends think I'll never get to him again. But I probably will.

I feel good for being sick. Pure for being ugly. Who am I for 22? Does 22 have something to it? Something powerful, weak, good, bad? I'm going to London. I'm going to Spain, I'm going to Germany, and to India. I'm sleeping in Thailand, I'm eating in Japan. I'm running in New Mexico, I'm posing naked in Ireland. I'm living in a trailer, I'm close to too thin. I'm ridiculously happy. I get parasites. Up down, mates meet. I'm running towards me.

Why do we have to be negative to get someone's attention.

dead spider.

synchronicity.

why does everyone seem to know my future? not just the good parts, but the bad ones too. why is it that messages keep flying at me, telling me my pathways. Strangers know me best these days. Have I become easy to predict? To spot, to pin down? All these years of being so transparent, my skin is cellophane. I show my working parts. All these years people still couldn't pin me down, and now I fear it is all catching up with me.

Perhaps the label has simply become more complex. But I am finding people know me, and am not sure quite how to react. Do I rejoice, and begin to enjoy what others do? Do I worry about becoming too simple? Will I stop entirely and have the whole world pass me by like a summer's breeze?

I think accepting is best. I'll accept than, for whatever it is. Crows are talking to me. They are preparing me for something yet. The world has just a little too much order now. I know, I know, I'm never happy...

I'm a little embarrassed. I have more to say than crushes and casual love affairs in enigmatic prose. More.

I think I must start at the end, then have a middle, than a beginning...

Everyone seems to know but me, what my future is...as if I already chose it, and somehow missed making the choice.

I'm a little confused, and unnecessarily frightened.

Some know me as "Lisette"

Your Seduction Style: Ideal Lover

You seduce people by tapping into their dreams and desires. And because of this sensitivity, you can be the ideal lover for anyone you seek. You are a shapeshifter - bringing romance, adventure, spirituality to relationships. It all depends on who your with, and what their vision of a perfect relationship is.

AND

You Are 50% Boyish and 50% Girlish

You are pretty evenly split down the middle - a total eunuch. Okay, kidding about the eunuch part. But you do get along with both sexes. You reject traditional gender roles. However, you don't actively fight them. You're just you. You don't try to be what people expect you to be.

No, I mean my name is her middle name. Well that won't be hard to forget.
I need to buy a new journal, so this one goes here.

Oh, yeah, that picnic thing in the lawn? Happened.
I actually got the guts to tell her I had a crush on her.
She said she thought I was cute and that it was romantic and we laughed at each other.
Bad news is...she's leaving for the Yukon for the summer.
Good news is, she's a great letter writer and she thinks I'm cute.
More good news, we spent 4 hours together today and neither of us were the slightest bit bored.
Bad news...not condusive to academic performance. I could barely help it. I fell asleep in the grass.

It was a bit magical actually.
This is really quite the crush.
How long is summer?

Michelle

Ch or K? I'm not really sure how she spells it. She's 26, and I've been caught staring at her many, many times. Always smiling. I'm always so awkward about it. Staring not so much because she's good to look at, but because I can't look away. I almost can't not look at her. Looking at anything else seems like such a waste when she is around.

So one day after a fairly successful class, I finally got the guts to ask her her name.

I know what it feels like to be vaguely attracted to someone, like when you look, and say to yourself...damn, they look good. And "sure I'd go out with them if it came up." Sort of casual like. This was not that. This first conversation, her eyes.... She did look good. Incredibly good. Amazingly good. But there was something more than that. It was like a feeling around her, that stayed there, more than just an interesting person I was attracted to. Like fireworks, like I was in the presence of something scary and ominous and beautiful, with marvellous potential. Like I was in the presence of a likeness and I knew it. It was more than someone I'd be "willing" to date. More than someone I would like to get to know, although all of that is true. It was like it was someone I already did know, although I don't yet know her. She was like meeting someone I already had a history with. She was like meeting some ideal....of something. And she was warm and receptive, and I forgot myself. I know so very little about her, but somehow I felt like I was standing in front of someone incredibly important. I've never felt quite like that before. Not with a girl. Not even just a connection, but a possibility that this could be someone very important to me if I, or we, could just recognize it. Spooky. It felt important for some reason.

Somehow she is important. I can't explain it, but I just know, even if she is an ordinary person...

I want to talk to her again. I want to learn more about her. I want to know her. She is a bit mysterious, but already I am having fantasies about picnics together on the lawn. She seems like someone I could always be getting to know and still be mysterious.

I have no idea where this premonition comes from, but it may just prove to be important. The only other person like that in my life has been dearest Janz, so I know it could potentially by platonic. Still, there is an affinity, and an apprehension I can't explain here.

Michelle

I can love most anyone intensely, for a short period of time.
"Now and Then"?
That's enough baby, that's enough.

For my current LMK

Maybe it's trite, but "Hey, Sweetie!" are the best two words in the world right now.

She is my oxygen.
Filtered through water, a chemical strain.
I am a fish lightly renewed to streams and to oceans,
needing this process to feel you.
I am a mermaid, told to have lungs by man's world
with steel gills to unmesh from the ever growing mess,
the molecules, you exist in.

Most unnatural, I find most natural,
In the grace of you temple,
in the gate before the doors

In the hollows and the eves, in the coral, and the caves,
I look for you.
Amongst so much saturated wood,
and the low crawling life, and the high dancing grass.

You are my oxygen, invsible to carbon breathing things,
Felt by hydrogen binds, over moving scales.
You are my oxygen.

And we breathe you in, but I must de-evolve...
to primordial soups and to classy shoes,
over you...

And I too can know love.