blame it on my wild heart

It began with one cold glass of leftover wine. Something fancy that you picked up for dinner that night. It emptied when you came over first, saying you were feeling funny and you didn't know why and we listened to those songs and awaited the evening. Then you came bearing gifts like you always seem to, funny shoes and hot drink holders and we delved into those bottles, admiring Mooz and feeling cozy and trying to figure the camera timer to have a souvenir image of us three like this before you go off and away to your love boat. Then you came over, rang someone else's buzzer and wandered the halls until you you called and came in the door to find us listening to Jay Z croon about new york, three winecheeked girls. Making sailboat plans and travel dreams and then you came next in your professor getup, and I may have told you how I felt about you when we first met this time two years ago, but maybe not. Funny night blurs around, small space filled tight with lovely faces and music and wine and beer and snacks and the mission, as always, to find that one song that everyone knows and loves. Was it amazing grace? Maybe knows, but what's the song that everyone loves too? Settling down and leaving and singing quietly as you figure out the songs that you haven't played in awhile and a shy singsong makes me smile even brighter about you. A dream day ensues where I can't muster up enough to really awaken, but 10pm rolls around and I finally venture out into the busy night, the crowded streets, the lights and music and the coming night. Coffee and a full subway car, the walk to your place, the dep who encourages me to buy six cans instead of four. Both of us still wrecked but dressed up pretty, listening to french music on the radio and then nothing as we drink and dream and sit and smoke and then you come over too and we suit up to hit the streets once more. Bus shelter waiting, flask and cola, missing the bus, Pierre the cabbie takes us to the place where the line up is giant but we get friendly with you two who share your brandy sip and and we wait with frozen toes until we enter this crazy zoo of night creatures who amalgamate so late in the evening to escape real time and dive deep into this dream of music and braincandy and dance dancing close together and by ourselves and just lose time and just sweat and just let me put your bank card in my bag i'll keep it safe, I promise. Then after that dream for hours you stop the music because that's the rules and you open your yellow duffle bag and share your rations of snacks and juice and supplies to keep you going and we three walk back out into the night which seems less cold and we wander through the glowing bulbs and decide that we can't just end the night, can't sleep, don't want to end this time and so we go underground again, it's the early morning and only a couple of people are awake and out and we are being silly making ourselves at home in there, the filterless peache smokes, the photobooth where we sit on your lap and squeeze into that frame, caught off guard in four funny photographs, then get onto an empty car and rumble two stops over and creep into my house where Mooz is puzzled but purrs and we eat those orange slices and embark on another vegetable journey even though it's 7:30am and we are all crazy and wildhearted and we laugh our heads off at all of the absurdities and things breathe and pulse and grow and shake and we laugh and my eyes water and we are floating once more into a dream state so we make a nest or was it a coccoon and we drift through our crazy imaginations into something like sleep. It was daytime, still is daytime when we wake and then it becomes dark and you leave to get some shit done and you and I are laying in the dark in separate rooms having a conversation and trying to convince ourselves to maybe move until we finally decide to eat some mexican food so we venture out again, feeling rich or just not caring and feeling anxious with our nerves shot and our heads on backwards and we enter this crazy place with strange music where maybe we imagined those barking dogs and the beer and the beans and the nachos are just going down, and we laugh at the man whose eyes are closed thinking maybe he's been just as wild but nope he is praying and we laugh about this until we cry. You fill up my already full cup with just one drop and this is also too much to handle and you say isn't it amazing, the pleasure that we get from our imaginations and yes this is true and thank goodness that we have each other to laugh with, we laugh about the little old ladies at the table beside us picturing ourselves when we are old and we cut our long brown hair short and sit drinking beer in a mexican restaurant, we laugh about the idea of tauri on drugs. And although we are loopy we are not ready to face home and the end and so we go for abricot hookah and share one more pitcher, and talk about life and laugh about everything and still the end can't arrive and so we venture to that favourite dive, facing reality as that little hill stretches our lungs and singing i'se the b'y and then taking in those lovely blugrass performers once more, less loopy than the first time but fuzzy edges and familiar faces and funny people and then we are outside and I have seen the beginning of the end and it has called to me and so I make my way to go, we are talking to Bob who is making fun of the nasty cigarettes that I can't even give away to the down and outs and I am showing strangers my beautiful cat friend and then I am treking home so fast and finally excited about giving life a rest, I eat a sandwich and lay day dreaming until finally I give in and get back into bed and dream wildly through a twelve hour sleep. Oh my goodness.

park light, ice walk, nice day

Walking round the park in that golden light of afternoon, my favourite light. Every step spent looking at the iced over ground, tangible possibility of falling, so walking very slowly so to still take in the sights of this Tuesday evening, fourth day off. One man slips and his hand held skates take flight in different directions. His fall is so heavy and crashing, I take my headphones off and wait to see. He is quick onto his feet and sprite in his recovery so I just put Yeasayer back into my ears and keep to my careful moseying. I am smiling at the skaters on the half melted pond, the rosey cheeked hockey players, sticks over shoulders, the babies being pushed about on wheels. Feeling like smiling at the whole world because it has been smiling at me, especially now when this sort of light is shining on me and on everything.