Here’s a slice of my life:
There’s a super moon tonight with an eclipse and I’m hoping we can see it but I love you enough to hold you close and then also to let you go. I don’t pimp a butterfly, you know? There is so much to write about. the junkers next door who gave the dog urn that you use as an elegant ash tray even though it usually stands proudly on your desk like some grim chalice of unknown power. There is the time we found the dog and we almost adopted him but his mother came and took him away. Was that symbolic> I hope not. I like you. You make me nervous. It’s the best. People have started photographing me, us, I don’t know what it is or what’s up but it keeps happening. usually in coffee shops. Doesn’t seem fair, shouldn’t that be a safe space? People are strange. I am a lover. I am fighting desire and oppression I am practicing detachment but I love you all too much to give you up. Is this the beginning of something or will my life finally end. I’m twenty-five, they say I’m just starting but than again, I feel so much older than I used to. It’s disgusting how much I miss you. I’m never angry anymore but sometimes I don’t feel like… still I won’t give in you know? I’ve yet to sit down and write. I get poems out, or spit songs that could one day be good yet right now they still are doing the whole semi- sucking thing. And I think about all of you back home and I wonder what you are going through, is everything alright in San Diego and Orange County? Is LA being kind to you? Will Newport make you feel satisfied and whole after a lifetime of insecurity and depression? Does the spectrum pay you enough for the lifestyle you like to live? It seems like you are always spending. Mangos and ice cream, beauty products, cocaine. Always the cocaine. And then there’s you in west Hollywood and you out in north Hollywood and you out in Inglewood suddenly and finally maybe leaving for good? Are you out? Are you leaving? Jack be quick, jack be nimble, I love you too.
What can I say what can I do? I left my native land and went to the north to fight against something. Capitalism? Convention? Maybe I’m still just at war with myself. Hopefully not at war with love, feeling it, feeling fine, so good, so good, so good, almost, yes, divine, divine, amazing, ecstasy…. please let me be the only one for you. But I forgive you if I am not enough. It is enough. I can stay here, I can move on, I can do both I can do nothing, let me sing you a song. I can get better I will get better, don’t let me do no wrong. Tomorrow when I wake up, let me be a better one. Godspeed you me, godspeed you you. I should capitalize more. God is watching. God is me, God is you, I am God, I am Buddha, I can do anything. Those words from a cancerous professor who pretty much just hated me. Said I tried to hard. I tried to kill myself but not hard enough. I am still alive and I always will be but you’ve got to outlive me because I really love you. Do you get it? Don’t give up.
Ian Gordon Galbraith