Raindrops on roses, Angels on MDMA, to feel the boundaries of your skin, you know who you are, expansiveness, singing nothing lasts forever while knowing full well everything we are is at every moment alive in us, thanks Arthur Miller, who is thanking California, and I’m thanking Barcelona.
Did I ever think Guns N Roses would find in me the honest questions? No, I didn’t. But that’s the magic, like the sunrise, all there alone, just the new light and me, walking to the metro in a big red backpack to catch a flight to somewhere, a window seat, close my eyes.
When I discover that DMT is the same chemical as dreaming, when I hear four-hundred-thirty-two is the frequency that can heal you, when I find light conversations about semicolons and the emotional impact of pauses, when I know for sure that transparency really works, so keep trying, I’ll keep trying. I’ve been making myself say all the hard things. Music enters me like walking into a church, I have a center it can find so easy easy.
Do you know how often I sit among the clouds? Once I saw moonlight flashing through them like a flame. When I say I love you, what else does it mean? Living with all the transluscents is ok, let them go. Don’t think about them every day.
Keep something beautiful in your mind, the way of swaying in the dark on a stowed bed beneath the wooden planks of a sailboat, out there, the big smell of water, Chaos, that’s real, too, every minor wind a gate ajar. More honest and it’s quieter, it’s July, you fell asleep in my lap, your feet were touching mine.
In a previous life, someone says what the fuck is this between us, a face so disgusted by it like it was ugly instead of one of the great wonders of the universe. It killed me inside, bombed one of my rooms. Confession and confession and still so much is secret. I dream in sliding, muffled, mythic electric guitar on my best nights, me quedo enamorado del mundo en español, falsetto, emoji corazones, el vino (ya sabes), el mar, the bag of teeth that materialized after Maria’s hijo realized the tooth fairy isn’t real.
Barcelona, I cried for the first time today since I arrived. Do you know how often I record the silence? This is all there is. This. Do you know I’ve photographed the teeth marks you left on me? That I’ve let my fingers rest there falling into sleep? Do you know how I’ve been afraid? Pascal said always keep something beautiful in your mind. The moon is full in this moment, and night makes me feel alive, I’m going to sit on my balcony and drink Rioja, and you know, I like being alone, I’d even call it loneliness.
I remember when we met, my soul and me. Now it’s easier to see everyone.