LA (daitheflu) wrote in mentalrevnow,
LA
daitheflu
mentalrevnow

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beyond the blonde

i'm about to go for a late night run in the neigborhood, cuz i live in suburbia and it's fairly safe and i am grateful for that, but i've got to post this first. my sleep cycle is so fucked right now that i dunno i f i'll be able to sleep even if i go race up and down half-lit streets for an hour, trying to tire myself out, but it's possible. what i know for a fact is that i won't be able to sleep unless i write something here. when i drive, i look at houses and i imagine the people who live inside. when i run or walk, i try not to look at houses, and i try to pretend i'm not thinking about what i'll do if i see someone step out of the shadows and reach for my arm. i don't like this discrepancy. i don't like drawing a line around my life.

and i don't like that i've been haunted by the face of the blonde girl since last week when i looked up and into the grill of her car as she bore down on me and i was crouched in the middle of valley view street, picking up the huge black crow with a broken wing and bleeding eye that some fuck couldn't be bothered to swerve away from. it was almost five in the afternoon and i'd been on my way to pick up my brother john from baseball practice when i saw typical roadkill that atypically lifted up its head and stared me in the eye as i drove past. alive. and since my mother has been telling me since i was born that crows are our friends, and that i've been reflecting on crows a lot lately for some reason, i flipped the car around and went back for it. praying that someone wouldn't hit it again while i waited for the light to change, praying that it would stop standing up and trying to fly and falling over, getting ever closer to cars whizzing by. praying, yeah, in some way i was. even though i could do nothing, really, except delay death a few minutes. and make it a little less gratuitous.

so that's how i ended up on my knees, giving no credence to traffic or caution, with a crow in my hands, at the mercy of some blonde girl and her fucking car. in the split second where i looked up and saw her i remember feeling fierce. my attention was ripped from the crow and i registered the color of her hair, which annoyed me. if i'd been driving next to her i would have rolled my eyes. she's a dime a dozen, one of the cookie cutter girls who walk around super tan and super bleached, rocking the roxy clothes, making me feel ill about being from orange county. on a regular day i would have thought that, anyway. and i started to, cuz it's habit, but then i looked past her windshield and her haircolor and actually at her face as she hit the brake.

sheer empathy and understanding. a hand to her mouth in shock. her eyes, huge and blue. both of us, and the crow and its blood dripping between my fingers. any other day we wouldn't have given each other a second thought. her conventionality, my envy. a fake smile. fences.

a manifesta, of sorts, is not appealing. but i like lists lately. they're neat and clean and make everything seem simple.

for me, mrn! is...

+ remembering that the blonde girl is just like me. and realizing that the blonde girl, me, and the crow could have all changed places had it been a different day, decade, or due to pay.
+ about creating a more demanding, invigorating, rewarding discourse.
+ finding new responses to old questions.
+ puttin *hope hope hope* into practice.
+ like gary snyder says: "stay together / learn the flowers."
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