There's a wide divide between the place I come from and the place I'm going, and what spans that divide isn't ambition, really, but the determination of dreams. When I get to the epicenter of that divide - the place that is equidistant from anywhere else - I get a strange ambivalence about which direction I should be headed in. It's in that way that I am the most easily lost; the thick soup of what any girl would want, and how each heart's destination starts looking pretty good.
I wish...
I wish I was at the beach, the long hours unrolling into the sound of the waves. Things become brighter there, the glow from under the umbrella a bright blue cold enough to raise a chill against the red of the swimsuit I've never owned. While you don't exactly fit in there, you squint in the sun, pacing the boardwalk, rubbing the grease of your hair with your claw clutching your cigarette, and promise me a tattoo if I'll tell you my name.
I wish I'd run away the time I threatened to, and I stayed in the apartment in the Bronx. I think the city I choose is the kind people swear they'll get out of someday, and I like it for the finite feeling. Every lifespan is shortened by it's danger and it's dreamless slumbers, and I would sing about them all.
Where does anyone really belong? Where do you? I think if I possess any more of this earth for myself, I'll have to start declaring myself it's inheritor, or it's master. Bonnie got it right when she became the light source in any room, and the feeling of forgetting something at the beginning or end of any long trip. Insubstantial things she can don and discard with the shifting moods of the day, where I'm solidly made ever more real with things like sandstone, and Belarus.
I wish for a moment there was a clear line from anywhere, to anywhere, the way all maps seem to lie that there is.
Anyway, I drove around last night looking for you, convinced you'd be in that aimless place.
-Evelyn
-Evelyn
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