The Sun, It Settles

*
My sanity failed me completely that night and I felt, at least on this particular occasion, that the world was sending me a message that it just doesn't care for people like me, that in these instances karma actually does exist despite my efforts to ignore it while doing drugs in my mother's home by myself on my broken bed, and that this night was the night to define my mental capacity for the rest of my life. I was sick and irreversibly miserable and hadn't slept for three days. Ava was waiting for me in the rain, probably with her legs out, exposed to the wind and the dregs of the winter past at the bus stop so we could jet up to the city to buy her mother a cheap crap gift before we headed towards San Jose, a humorous "Hollywood" souvenir and perhaps a quickly snapped picture of Robin Williams' star, as her mother was a big fan of his in the 70's, something I liked about her mother because that's when he was most fucked up. Well maybe. But I copped without her with money that my grandmother gave "us" for food along the way, because Berto said he'd be passing around my neighborhood and I said "might as well make a round to my place if you are near." And he did and now I am terribly late with no ounce of guilt. And I thought to myself... why should I be guilty ever? I am alone in this world without a woman's fuck, which is a transient thing, which could possibly be one of the cheapest institutions in our nation today, that is, the "love" of a woman, and if Ava and I had not grown up with each other, and she had not had some attachment to her father directly through these experiences we had growing up and through me presently, she probably would have left me by now for some big dick business man or even worse a pimp... And in these thoughts on my baby blue covered bed with the broken leg, I suddenly feel like a complete fucking ass hole.
The phone rang, I jumped, and all ready I could hear Ava's sweet wet voice like the angel she is soothing the line despite the storm outside... I pick up and say nothing. 
"Christian? Chris!.." 
Still I say nothing and she hears me shuffle.. I can hear the rain behind her back growing as large as a phantom by the second. 
"God dammit Chris I am fucking soaked..." 
Thunder
"  there are a lot of creeps out.. " 
Wind. The arms of the phantom reach right through the phone line and begin to choke me.. 
"I think Berto was trying to get a hold of my phone" 
My heart drops. She's on to me.
"..but my screen broke this morning so I couldn't catch the call but I copped off some house keeping woman by the inn right here" 
"Does this mean you are on to me?" I whisper accidentally without realizing it and she says "What's that? What?"
 I say "Honey baby what do you mean you broke the screen" 
"What? I mean it broke so I can't see calls.. That's what I mean by it" 
"Ava, honey, why are you a mess with your phones all the time? Why do you have to be so clumsy baby?" And she says I'm just as bad and to meet her in less than half an hour or else she'll hop in some Jon's sports car convertible and make her way out to Los Angeles by her own means, and I no longer feel like an ass hole, and surprised, when I drop the line in the egg basket, I wonder how I ever did feeling as fucked up and marvelous as I do now.
That was a year ago, when Ava was still on my team.  My then whimsical four person team,mechanically in place no matter which town I was in. Ava, me, the man, the drug. Now a days I am lucky if I can even get Angelo to not yell at me.

Ava has seven names.
She told me so when I was 16 and hungry and she was 14 and about to ruin her life, haphazardly, over vanilla shakes at Millie's. I thought she must be shitting me.
"You've got to be fucking shitting me!"
"Do you always have to be so vulgar?" She had no idea.
"Just say it again."
Marylin Ava Maria Atlantis Lee Ann Reyes.
The aroma of every moment I would have sliding around the smoke of her teenage illusions and pink, scraped up knee caps swept over me. I felt above each word painting every letter with my tongue, feet above me chained to hell in reverse with the heavens buried deep below us and the the biblical wrath past our ceilings and the clouds.
"Say it slowly though.."
Her lips made me ache and I watched her words slither out of her throat in chords and music through teeth I had just realized were massive in her skull.
"Marylin...Ava... Maria.. Atlantis...Lee... Ann... Reyes."

Marylin Ava Maria Atlantis Lee Ann Reyes.

Post

My eyesight is getting worse. It makes for fuzzier hallucinations like when the metro bus near the Cypress Hills cemetery started to float above the wave of humidity, turned into smoggy dragons, and the advertisement banner on the side was out of focus, something about insurance and smiling heads.
My nose started projectile bleeding when I caught site of the cemetery in Brooklyn. It was very alarming. It came out in bursts running down and dripped two drops on my brand new dress in places that suited it well on rose flowers, so well that you couldn't even notice that it was blood. I imagine the the blood inside of me was literally boiling out of me since I hadn't been in such intense heat since summer of last year. In fear that someone might think I needed help and called an ambulance or worse, for my back pack, the police, I took a couple quick pictures and turned the other way back towards the J line at Alabama Avenue. It was the worst one I have ever had.
 My foresight needs fine tuning. It's too bad I never went to fine art school said a recent demon, with its stomach exposed and fears attached to him, feather like in a headdress emanating feverishly from his brain and probably a deeper part of him no one understands, fragile, easily broken. It's too bad it took so long for said figure to turn his insides out, hold his guts in his stomach, and stare directly into the shit he fed himself.
My moneys running out because I keep buying disposables and giving myself fake assignments for every one of them labeling each one like "of people touching their hair", "of people i don't know frowning at me", "of people I do know frowning at me", "of things that remind me of the flavor of bubble gum". I don't even know how, but I will, and when I can I will get these developed I'll remind my self that before I didn't know how I would.
Like it even matters.
My instincts told me to find a high mountain and I did so before leaving.
My mother was denied the insurance for lasik surgery today. She took me to breakfast in San Mateo. She talked of how she used to see ghosts on her way back from los bailes in San Francisco walking towards her Hillsborough in-law where her and her mother lived to nanny and clean. The women behind me were complaining about how one of their sons didn't make valedictorian at his school. I was dreaming aloud about how I want to go back. We read our horoscopes and mine said something about taking the middle road so I told my mom how it took me two days to find the Buddhist temple I frequented in 2009 in Chinatown in New York and when I got there everyone was cleaning up and the doors were to close in five minutes. I made my donations, clasped my hands, bowed, and lit an incense, and when I was finished I asked if I could please take a picture. One man said smiling, "yes" and the other, sternly and with his voice raised, "no!" I stood silent for the remainder of the two minutes staring at the golden Buddha surrounded by fresh fruit, jewels, and flowers, and then walked out saying nothing now in search of tights to cover my bare legs, and it started to storm, lighting, thunder, and warm rain on my last night in New York.
It was all very beautiful.

4-12-13

Should I just be honest and admit that the last thing I wanted to do today is leave New York and come to the Bay?