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Quartered • View topic - Just talking.
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 Post subject: Re: Just talking.
 Post Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2009 4:17 pm 
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Fantomiselle wrote:
I wish the fruit was that bright here. I wish the world was. I wish I could be kissing someone during Svankmajer's Alice, feeling them come and watching both ways as a stop-motion fish clatters around after Alice and the lovelier, stranger, more intimate feeling of watching a dark line then another until there is a cartographic blossom I have given them like a bite mark, only it doesn't fade.

It's so hard to connect. It's so hard to find anyone. It's so hard for me to talk even here, among friends. Outside the fruit isn't red enough and I sit in a movie theater and wait and a car rushed by while I was in the crosswalk and nearly hit me and splattered me with slush.

Oh, how I want the world to be this beautiful. Till then, I have you who understand.


I have never stayed awake to watch the maps appear. I will have to, now that you have mentioned it. It sounds so perfect, and I want to revel in every drop of beauty our city has to offer. Every last sticky-sweet drop.


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 Post subject: Re: Just talking.
 Post Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2009 9:10 am 
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typhoidsamantha wrote:
I have never stayed awake to watch the maps appear. I will have to, now that you have mentioned it. It sounds so perfect, and I want to revel in every drop of beauty our city has to offer. Every last sticky-sweet drop.


With some people, it's just a shadow, like watered ink. With me, I had shadow and then it blossomed in three days from a shadow to full blown map(much like a bite mark or a bruise that gets brighter with time, you know, the kind where you pull up your sweater and look and smile when you're not supposed to?), streets like vines and leaves and flowers.

I watched one grow on a lover's neck, during Juliet of the Spirits. It was like a timelapse of a flower, first an alley, then a main street and then bubbling up to the surface, perfect and inky black and glorious, so delicate that I could almost read the street names in that flickering dark.

There's Inauguration of The Pleasure Dome tonight. Now when I watch it I will wonder if Kenneth has been there, long before I was even born. They eat gems like fruit and cavort with gods and it looks so much like the salons that we all love. (I am a cinephile cityphile, I guess.) So much beauty--and yes, if you can, stay awake and watch the maps appear.
It is exquisite.


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 Post subject: Re: Just talking.
 Post Posted: Tue Feb 24, 2009 9:19 am 
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oh oh oh, you write so beautifully it makes me ache.


I slept with a beautiful black-haired boy this weekend, short and pretty and with rich dark eyes. I watched him; I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His mark is on his thigh, just where I put my hands to steady him as I licked his cock. I thought it was a bruise, for an instant, but no mere injury could form so quickly or twist into such shapes. I gave him Zoetrope and 324th streets, just west of a train station. (Did I give him those streets, or did the city? Did the vermin-mistress pick those out, knowing how perfect they would look curling around his thigh?)


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 Post subject: Re: Just talking.
 Post Posted: Tue Feb 24, 2009 12:04 pm 
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typhoidsamantha wrote:
oh oh oh, you write so beautifully it makes me ache.

I slept with a beautiful black-haired boy this weekend, short and pretty and with rich dark eyes. I watched him; I couldn't take my eyes off of him.



Thank you--I blush.
I didn't write before the Heavenly City.

What a delactable young man--I don't think I could have kept my hands off him either.
I wonder if I will ever meet you and that pretty boy there. Perhaps we will find each other at the Cast Iron Memorial. We should have a picnic--fresh bread and cheese, stuffed dormice and flasks of cinnamon wine.

Tonight I am going to see Rabbit's Moon and Lucifer Rising. Perhaps I will make love under the flickering eyes of Pierrot and Harlequin and beautiful demon brothers and perhaps I will see you there.
I hope so.


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 Post subject: Re: Just talking.
 Post Posted: Thu Feb 26, 2009 3:18 am 
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Fantomiselle wrote:
Oh, how I want the world to be this beautiful. Till then, I have you who understand.


I know what you mean now. It took me a while to believe it but I finally do.

For me it's the music. That's all I've ever really cared about in life, all that ever moved me, all I've ever been good at. But the music there is like... nothing else.

I started writing all these weird new songs after my first couple visits to the city. Stuff my band would never get into; I knew the guys wouldn't understand it so I didn't even try. But the songs are just coming so hard and fast and strange, and so out of place.

Except there, they're not out of place. I managed to get hold of an instrument that's enough like a guitar for me to figure it out (I still have to find out what its name is) and just sat in the park one night playing... and somehow, in that place, it felt right. More right than the most perfect gig in the waking world, the ones where everyone's in sync and everything goes right and it's like telepathy... more right even than that.

I've hidden the not-a-guitar where I can find it again when I go back. Some nights people walk by, sometimes they stay to listen. You can actually make a little money as a musician there, if you're not pushy and stay out of the places they don't want you.

I still love my job, my band, I'm still happy on tour. But it's just... not the same. Like the fruit, the music just isn't quite as bright... the colors of the notes aren't as vivid, the feel of the strings under my fingers not quite as tart... even my voice doesn't seem to taste as sweet coming through my lips.

Anywhere else, that wouldn't make any sense.

I keep assuring the band I'm not planning to break off and go on a solo career. Heh. I can't tell them that I kind of already have.


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