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Jivana's Memoris: 41“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed it’s the only thing that ever has.”
To believe in what they believed. Did I believe it though? I had to.
As foreign as it might have seemed to me, they were right. I had been broken free. I was bare in a new domain. If I had issues dealing, it was just that the sensation was new on my skin, a little raw. I’d have to acclimate but no matter what, there was no going back. I was surprised at how I was dealing with it all actually. I am sure I was in a state of shock. Shocked and shocked again. What resilient systems we have.
I pulled over to fill up on gas and give my mind a rest. As I pumped, my skirt flirted up in a passing breeze, and my thoughts, just briefly, were replaced by a feeling of coolness on my skin. As I pulled out, I noticed the fading and dilapidated "Gas" sign, painted in pe
Jivana's Memoris: 40As I drove, that first 40 minutes or so, the sky seemed to have a golden cast that seemed to match my mood. I drove on the long, straight, two-lane highway with shrubs like green and brown polka dots covering the great expanses on either side of me. Highway poppies ate my dust and a wildly blowing flag in the distance seemed static next to the immensity of this timeless landscape. Flags, why did we always have to stake our claim? Would we ever really change?
And why did I think it looked timeless here? Because it always changes from the constant resurfacing of the wind ... yes and that is why they were not worried about track marks maybe.
I thought of Hope, some etheric being as she was described to me.
“Granted we see the shadow people too” joked Wolife. He had been passing by Zoe and I as she was describing Hope to me.
“What are the shadow people?” I asked.
“Oh, you haven’t seen them yet” said Zoe softly, with big eyes
Jivana's Memoirs: 39Pulling out with my car I heard the crunchy sound of dirt on tires. Looking in my rear view mirror, a cloud of dust masked the already well camouflaged lair.
Hazy memories of the films and the happenings fogged my mind. Concentration was not an option. Instead, I felt compelled to just allow myself to watch all the different thoughts, like projections on my fog, fade in and out. Finally, it struck me I popped my head above the clouds and I knew what we had to do. Well, sort of …
All I really knew is, I had to do something. I had the power to do something. I couldn’t wait for them to tell me what to do because I’m not sure they knew themselves. That was clear. They just kept telling me they knew they needed me but never once for what. Everyone has their own part to play and mine was at very least to figure out what mine was.
Everything in the new world was about marketing. I had to do something with marketing … Mark
Jivana's Memoirs: 37“Let’s get you some coconut water. You’re probably dehydrated” said Zoe.
“I was mostly dry heaving” I said
“Um, yeah well I think I still have something to clean up” she joked back with me.
“Regardless, we should all replenish our electrolytes. Lovely idea Zoe” said Paris.
The girls escorted me back into the debrief room. It’s like the room carried a strong and swirling essence still, or perhaps it was just the memories of what had just happened, that made me want to fall over. They brought me to the bar, got me on a stool, so I could at least sit upright but prop myself up on something.
Zephr was in the room with her back up against the wall and one knee up. The timeless tough girl stance. And she was so comfortable with panty shots I just found it remarkable, although I said nothing.
Without anyone asking she said “It’s a Kombucha”
Zoe smiled and then I saw her look
Jivana's Memoirs: 38My eyes popped open. I don’t remember dreaming anything but when I woke I felt refreshed and clear. The film was off. It seemed like everyone had resigned to nap time.
Zoe and I were back to back, curled up in opposite fetal position like spinal fused Siamese twins. I couldn’t remember any specific message from Dr. Rave’s film but I had this clear sense of what Zoe might have meant before … with this being so much bigger than myself. We were part of something not just here and now but almost like something that has been going on for eons, perhaps since the end of time. We represented something, some aspect of the human spirit that continually emerges. The tribes we saw in the film, their customs, are endangered. Even though we risk losing them, and knowledge we might never gain? Somehow part of that was being reborn through us.
With that thought, I felt the needs to sit up. I did my best to not disturb Zoe. This t
Today Is The Day
Today is the day.
Today is the day that you stop making excuses.
Today is the day you put your fork down and lace up your shoes.
Today is the day you step outside and run like there is fire at your heels.
Today is the day you think of sweat as gold.
Today is the day you fall down and get back up.
Today is the day you feel the ache in your calves.
Today is the day you pant like a dog.
Today is the day you tell yourself you'll do it again tomorrow and mean it.
Today is the day you make a change.
Six O' ClockLay me to sleep on the warm summer curbs.
I want the skyscrapers in my bones
And their light beneath my nails.
I want a burgundy August strung between my teeth
So I can suck the seconds from the season
And smile like September.
there were tidepools in his eyes, andhe remembered blue walls
like ocean miles, time he couldn't forget
because it welled up
like waves beneath his skin; lined with creases he'd
earned through eternity, he watched
the sky and asked how long had it really been -
nothing saved from
the ashes but saltwater stains
on clothes, on cheeks in place of
(the sun never stood a chance)
and the way he'd always slept with a s-stutter -
standing with waves crashing like
thunder to his knees he remembered a time
not long ago when it was
and he knew he was scared of the
end because he
didn't want to sink beneath the water, nothing
left but bones and sightless
(inhuman in the fullest; a monster to the third degree, he knew) -
and he put it off
once and again until it came for
him and knocked on the door; invited itself
in and told him now, i've been patient
for a while, but -
and he realized
amidst a falling grace that sometimes
death is the most human of us
The BirdSo desperate for the love
She couldn't find in inside.
She was perfectly willing to throw herself at the stars,
Convinced she could be completely happy
With someone who put her in a nest.
That gilded nest was beautiful,
But a nest none the less.
It just took a shining mirror
To see how it had become a cage.
Resolutely she found the key
And let herself out.
She never noticed how confining it had become
The cage ripped and tore at her feathers and flesh
Until she finally wrenched herself free
To flee as far as she could get
From that awful place.
Along the way,
She found another mirror.
Looking into it....
She found me,
A reflection of herself.
She saw me – herself -
Without her cloak of lies
Leadening her hunched shoulders,
Concaving her entire persona.
She discovered my beautiful colors,
The fine sheen to my feathers
And enthralling grey of my eyes.
She flew away,
But I met her every mirror after
I saw her slouch transform into a strut,
Her shining tears dissolve into misch
you ate the stars and i ate my heart.this is how i was
fell in love with a boy
with razor sharp
teeth and a
poet's heart. it's really a
pretty kind of thing.
using his borrowed
tongue, he took me in like a
four a.m cigarette (slowly, and
with loneliness in every one of his
joints). we both thought
that enough smoke
would fill in the cracks in our
rib cages; we were both
he told me that he would
like to be a
planet: "all that open
space, all those dying
stars. it would give me room to
instead of telling him that
there is no oxygen in
outer space, i
watched him feel his lungs
implode. it broke my
bones to witness it; but it's really a
dreadfully pretty thing to
comfortcurling into quilts so deep
bubbles of tension run off
my body like soap, and i
clutch that raggedy little
dog to my chest like cloth
can make me whole.
What is Isolation you ask?
Isolation is to be left out when you want to be in.
Isolation is feeling that sense of loneliness.
Isolation is feeling alone when ten thousand people surround you.
Isolation is hearing laughter in a room and silence when you walk in.
Isolation is staying away from people, afraid they won’t talk back.
Isolation is sad.
Isolation is small.
Isolation is hard to describe unless you are the person feeling it.
Isolation is quiet.
Isolation is counting how many times you get let down and eventually lose track.
Isolation is wanting to forgive but not knowing how.
Isolation is uttering a cry from the depths of your soul and waiting forever for a reply.
Isolation is not hearing an answer when you ask a question.
Isolation makes you feel worthless.
Isolation has to be the cruelest of emotions.
I know the feeling of isolation.
I sense it in myself.
There's nothing you choose to do about it.
For I've tried everything already.
So don't be surprised,
If I'm gone from this place.
nightfallThe night air is cool.
Street lamps are coming on
and from my window seat,
narrow and confining,
there's a person on bike.
I wonder where they're going,
who they are, what they'll see,
whether they'll be friend or foe,
and if that will matter to me.
Ah, they're turning, turning,
out of sight now
behind the houses,
the trees, the lights
behind the sheltered,
comforting feel of night
I'm starting to feel witchy
as the first star shows its twinkle
thinking of these rhymes and rhythms
Like the beat of my heart
matches the breath of the wind
and the exhalation
of my sleeping sister next door
and the snores of father and mother
down the hall.
It's a night of magic and mystery:
no cloud covers the moon,
not quite full, not quite empty
and the scratching noise of branches
echoes my imagination,
narrow and confined,
my body starts to ache
longing for the comfort of the bed
just a few feet away.
I turn from the window,
face the curtain, but a glimpse
of another biker catches my eye
and I'm trans
Stop talking, Start screamingStop talking
It’s not enough
Maybe you should try to scream
Everyone does it
Stamp your feet
Slam the door
What you stand for
And when somebody
Has noticed you
Do what all the others
Would do too
Just don’t quit
You like the attention more
Than you could admit
Don’t be embarrassed
It’s what we all do
Everyone denies it
But we all know it’s true
Screaming our opinions
On the whole internet
And begging for attention
Is how we lack intellect
This is who we are
It’s the purpose of our society
Everybody wants to be heard
Ignoring the last bit of propriety
So do what you think is right
Scream whatever comes in mind
Do anything you can do
To make someone notice you
My Ethereal Tightropei walk an ethereal tight rope
balancing between blackness and clouds
i lose my step
and fall into both.
the bottom of the blackness feels like a dark cave.
through my darkness
i see myself on the other side
in blissful free fall.
i am separated as if by a pane of glass.
a falling sea star
through clouds of spectacular color
I am joy
rushing unceasing unending feeling
pure, misty dissolution
in the dark, I wish to be that joy,
my palms pressed against the glass,
but I am just a witness to it.
split i turn around,
leaning against my wall
i slip down slowly
embracing my knees-
I know i am alone
i am not sad …
and i am not afraid …
i just don't know why i'm here…
a small vibration
inside my heart-
i take a deep breath,
and walk into my darkness.
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