buenos noches
Nov. 2nd, 2008 11:19 pmtonight was beautiful. so many things coming full circle. i laid what i needed to rest. the first person i hugged hello to was in many ways such a parallel to the last person i hugged goodbye to. it's a circle and it's family and it's all separate and together and it was just what it needed to be. i found an evergreen in the park to give my candle to. i laid a cigarette below the candle and burned pine needles and watched the smoke rise away. i wrote their names on a wall, the years they over lapped running from 1904 - 2008.
i sent messages away for them on the air and on paper written with an honesty that isolated my voice and kept the words away. i was quiet. i was moved. and it was all so beautiful.
muy_macha and
postmaudlin held me when i needed and walked with me in it, letting me have my tears, my solitude and my family there with me.
fightingwords threw hugs and the squeeze of love and connection.
doppmonster with the smile of my neighbor who knows me too well. there were more people there that i knew but i didn't see them. and in some ways i couldn't. i walked with my head up and tears on my face and i was in my own world. of heightened light. of ghosts pushing on the air around me. of grief, joy and hope. it was a miracle i heard anyone outside of the din of my own thoughts.
it was loud and celebrating of the blood and memories of ancestors as we left. thick beat beat heavy soul in your blood music. a lonely trombone mournful through and with the voices that originally we'd been marching with. the circle circles again. ending the night with coffee and bloody feet. coffee is my drink of the dead. another ritual to honor. another circle.
i kept and held onto the most precious sacrament. i lost the michigan pinecone to the altar of the street. she is right. at a certain point all of the ground beneath our feet becomes holy.
you meant everything. we dreamt these dreams together. i'll keep working to make them real.
i sent messages away for them on the air and on paper written with an honesty that isolated my voice and kept the words away. i was quiet. i was moved. and it was all so beautiful.
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it was loud and celebrating of the blood and memories of ancestors as we left. thick beat beat heavy soul in your blood music. a lonely trombone mournful through and with the voices that originally we'd been marching with. the circle circles again. ending the night with coffee and bloody feet. coffee is my drink of the dead. another ritual to honor. another circle.
i kept and held onto the most precious sacrament. i lost the michigan pinecone to the altar of the street. she is right. at a certain point all of the ground beneath our feet becomes holy.
you meant everything. we dreamt these dreams together. i'll keep working to make them real.