hi. this is today.

Sunday, April 25, 2004
i want you to know

i only have to close my eyes dear, and suddenly i’m where you are.

i am listening unashamedly to the xanadu soundtrack, loudly on my headphones. my new housemate has turned up the television so she can hear the sounds of war better.

i turn up olivia newton-john and gene kelly again.

i don’t want to see images of war. i don’t want to witness an act of war that some people in my family had to live through.

generations pass, young people have become disconnected from the truth of what really matters, and they’re all buying audio systems to make the sounds of the bombs on the television louder.

today i took some time out and went to the womyn’s house in coburg. i sat in the womb chair, with blankets around me, the smell of nag champa and garlic mingling in the air. womyn moving, working, dancing, laughing and holding hands. eating the soup, listening and being present. there’s a lot to be said for being present.

blood family is crumbling, is telling me i have hurt it. tells me i smell and don’t have anything to show for my life. most of the times now i don’t know how to think about it. i don’t know how to process it yet. i can sit in a room or under a tree with charles and just be with it, which is very helpful. i wish more time could be devoted to it, so it would be healed faster. but maybe that’s not the physics of feeling. maybe working twice as often has nothing to with the rate at which one heals.

my uncle is dying.

my cat is sleeping.

my foot is hurting.

my skin is a flag for my emotional state.
it is sore and stinging, and open and bleeding. i cover it often with things to soothe it, like comfrey and calendula and tea tree.

there is a lot which needs to be said, but you’ll have to wait.

i won’t be gone so long this time.

xep, i wish we could find one another and communicate with the words.
pat, i wish we could be in recliner chairs, wrapped up in comforters, watching raising arizona.
traci, i wish my email worked.

any colour you like, pink floyd.
that is where i am floating at right now.
if you’ve got it close to you, hear it and be here with me now.

“And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon.

And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
And if the band you’re in starts playing different tunes
I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon.”

alana wrote this @ 9:19 PM