Today the clouds slipped away and in the wake of a week of rain the air was fresh, the sky blue, and for a few hours the sunlight cut through green trees washed of their topmost layers of grime. In their search for sun, during the night using up carbon monoxide, they are clogged, dense, heavy and olive with pollution, as we all are here in this dirty city. I walk through the mucky streets, careful but not too careful, natural, avoiding the puddles, and then the heel of my green shoes flips up and I close my eyes momentarily to feel the sludge up my calf and slurp beneath my bare foot. I never falter a step.
I have made this journal in honor of my bright day, bright future. Out of dedication to myself. I took out my photographs today, after talking with m, knowing that I can forgive him somehow. I hang no pictures of people except my family. but my landscapes are here. the panoramas and moody film stills.
There is even a sunset, but as there's no one to go see it with I don't mind sitting here.
I've got a poor excuse for hot chocolate, but Bowie's on and I'm naked and freshly washed so there's very little to complain about. Oh, and Oreos to turn my mouth black and rot my teeth. mm, the memories of home.
I wonder at my self-absorbtion. still, I have time for it and when else am I to have all this free time for contemplation of myself and my life? school will start in 3 weeks, and hopefully I'll be able to travel. though a daily life has settled itself. A little study of chinese, read english books, dip myself in anais [nin], write write write.
My clothes are hung in the closet and I feel as though fabric is comforting to me. Isn't it the curtains which made me stay? The most cozy my room has felt is when I had laundry strung around the room. the largest wall is still bare except for two small paintings of bamboo near the pillow.
today I came home and looked out the window. I had dumped the cactus on the ledge with the air conditioner because it was rotting. I saw a long bright green line that I felt wasn't the cactus. At first I thought it was a slug but then I realized it was a snake! I hopped up on the ledge to watch, it slid around the dirt, about a foot long. it sensed me and slithered under the air conditioner. I wanted to touch it, as I'm quite sure it was harmless, but nonetheless. snakes have different symbolism here I think. Unlike the West's evil, christian associations. I believe snakes are wise. I'll have to check.
I've just realized that I'll make my next journal, buy the paper and whatnot and sew it together. how simple. I'm loving this one though. It's like when we went out for the Xian specialty of bread and broth and lamb. We had to tear the bread to pieces, little bits. It must have taken 40 minutes! then they dump the broth over the bread and its really tasty. the chinese boy who took us said it tasted so good because we made it ourselves. he's very right! the dining hall version just wasn't the same.
so I've really finished the other journal, it seems strange. I'm glad because it has many wounds in it. from home. but I am clear. I live for breakfast in the morning. mm good.
Kane calls me, 12:30 at night, drunk. he misses me. I am watching snow white in english. its a good version, haunting and not sweet. I imagine someone dark, hair, eyes. I wait.
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