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2000-12-21 || 12:07am || code word: sam. || we just spent an hour and a half in a parking lot, kelly, tito and i, trying to figure out whether to drive to silverlake for tito's show. we were dreadfully late, knew we had missed it, so instead we sat in the parking lot and kelly told me costa rica stories while tito played his guitar with matt outside sitting in the trunk. earlier tonight kelly and i were in a car parked in front of keith's house (why is it we are always in cars but never going anywhere?). we sat with danny and let the windows fog up, drew hearts and our initials and tattoo designs and erased them with our breath. kelly and i tried to harmonize for our band with sammy and tito but she kept getting shy. one of my favorite boys wrote me the beautifullest email and please let me reproduce it here because it is so nice (don't worry. no one knows you wrote it.). **tonight faded into this morning. debating what to do with all these ghosts poking my heart and brain. It was so nice to read something so sweet and honest. I havent slept at all. And Im supposed to do so much today. But now im so tired. things have seemed to have retreated to reload. so my brain is clear enough to sleep now. All I want to do is go hug on one of my brothers. but i dont want to worry them or creep them out. My mom got up at 7am and was upset because i wasnt asleep. She blamed the coffe. And told me to switch to decaf. I wish that life was that easy.** lovely. all night in the parking lot i wanted to write about sam. i love sam, everybody. and i don't know quite what to say about him, except that striped sweaters remind me of him, and richard brautigan, and smoking on cold cold nights, and wandering around airports, and really good hugs, and the sweetest boys you can think up. is sam. in san diego a long time ago we went to a bookstore in hillcrest. the one by off the record. and we talked about books, blocked entire aisles with our words, hushed and heavy. it had just started to rain outside and we walked slowly back to kelly's car. and it was lovely. and remember around thanksgiving when we sat in your brother's room with hashem listening to wesley willis and playing with the kittens? we looked at pictures of you when you were little. when you and your brothers were angels in corduroy pants. sammy, you are an angel. please don't be sad. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |