i wanted you to see. do you know how much i love you?!
His name is Leigh. Seventeen years prior to my unleashing from the womb, his fifteen-year-old self wanders the hallways of Santa Monica High School where I would find myself sixteen years after my incarnation. Talking in an English accent, he avoided the peevish censure of his mumbling, lazy mouth words pedagogically inflicted by his government agent slash artist father, Joseph, and his teacher mother, Emma. He wore a cape and let dirty blond curls fall down to his shoulders while his paint-covered hands rested on a staff. Thirty-four years later there remains the preservation of those paint colored hands as he rhythmically pulls the universe, the Hieroglyph of the Human Soul up through the linoleum tiles of the studio floor. At forty-nine years of age the paint has spread along the mosaic creases of youth all over his daft wizard face and onto his interminably missing bifocals.
Her name is Carla. Forthwith from her mother’s loins she sprang four years preceeding the same such trans-dimensional travel of my father. Seventeen years after that first breath of 1951 air, she would find herself in Lodi High School as a member of every club, lead in every play, master of the saxophone, lead majorette, valedictorian, and a beautifully beautiful senior bound for the University of Wisconsin and later show business. Nineteen years later movements so deep in her ovaries would grow into my fetus and yield my body with lungs taking in my first breath of 1987 air. Resting on the black and white shirt stripes of my dad’s shirt I did not cry, even though I would never share the environment of my mom’s youth. Seventeen years later she is the most powerful woman since Cleopatra and embraces her children’s life with so immense a love that John Lennon would be astounded. She can be seen preserving her powers with the written word, writing books to generate the seed of her fortune.
Her name is Caytlyn. Five years prior to 1987, she is born in the absence of my father (he is a dead knight in Italy playing one of his favorite roles, but forever guilty of missing his first born’s birth by one day) and takes in her first breath of 1982 air. She tells of coming from the planet of the purple light and asks later for another baby. Five years later I show up and she watches me grow, drives me around in electric play cars, tortures me, plays with me, and teaches me everything she knows. Thirteen years following my birth, I watch her graduate from high school, and now, four years later she will do the same. I don’t think that either of us realized (when I was four and she was nine) that we would be best friends and make a pact to stay close to each other forever.
This is forever. This is all we have.
_________________________
I was called the swing queen at my preschool. I ruled that plot of ground and the other children who inhabited it. I was all mighty and very well-dressed. I swallowed a ruby during naptime once. I peed in my pants as well and had to wear a superman sweat suit for the rest of the day. I ran around a lot and loved the monkey bars. But the swings were always my favorite. My love affair with sky began early. I have always wanted to fly. I dreamt that I could, and upon waking, I jumped off the couch and was severely disappointed and continued to try anyway. One time I thought I’d try jumping off the roof with an umbrella. I got too scared and retreated to jumping off the couch again.
Stinkbugs, especially the fuzzy children of the breed, were particularly some of my best playmates. While running rampant throughout the playground of Mallinson Preschool, my friend Valeska and I stumbled upon a dead one. We decided to give it a burial. I held the corpse and instructed Valeska to dig a hole that would be its final resting-place. My instructions consisted of "dig deeper" explaining that the deeper the hole, the longer it would live in its next life. Her hands shoveled sand in small, rhythmic scoops following the beat of my demands, until I deemed it deep enough. After a moment of silence, we replaced the upturned ground and told the exoskeleton insect to go its way in peace.
Then I played pogs. And had really cool slammers.
Her name is Carla. Forthwith from her mother’s loins she sprang four years preceeding the same such trans-dimensional travel of my father. Seventeen years after that first breath of 1951 air, she would find herself in Lodi High School as a member of every club, lead in every play, master of the saxophone, lead majorette, valedictorian, and a beautifully beautiful senior bound for the University of Wisconsin and later show business. Nineteen years later movements so deep in her ovaries would grow into my fetus and yield my body with lungs taking in my first breath of 1987 air. Resting on the black and white shirt stripes of my dad’s shirt I did not cry, even though I would never share the environment of my mom’s youth. Seventeen years later she is the most powerful woman since Cleopatra and embraces her children’s life with so immense a love that John Lennon would be astounded. She can be seen preserving her powers with the written word, writing books to generate the seed of her fortune.
Her name is Caytlyn. Five years prior to 1987, she is born in the absence of my father (he is a dead knight in Italy playing one of his favorite roles, but forever guilty of missing his first born’s birth by one day) and takes in her first breath of 1982 air. She tells of coming from the planet of the purple light and asks later for another baby. Five years later I show up and she watches me grow, drives me around in electric play cars, tortures me, plays with me, and teaches me everything she knows. Thirteen years following my birth, I watch her graduate from high school, and now, four years later she will do the same. I don’t think that either of us realized (when I was four and she was nine) that we would be best friends and make a pact to stay close to each other forever.
This is forever. This is all we have.
_________________________
I was called the swing queen at my preschool. I ruled that plot of ground and the other children who inhabited it. I was all mighty and very well-dressed. I swallowed a ruby during naptime once. I peed in my pants as well and had to wear a superman sweat suit for the rest of the day. I ran around a lot and loved the monkey bars. But the swings were always my favorite. My love affair with sky began early. I have always wanted to fly. I dreamt that I could, and upon waking, I jumped off the couch and was severely disappointed and continued to try anyway. One time I thought I’d try jumping off the roof with an umbrella. I got too scared and retreated to jumping off the couch again.
Stinkbugs, especially the fuzzy children of the breed, were particularly some of my best playmates. While running rampant throughout the playground of Mallinson Preschool, my friend Valeska and I stumbled upon a dead one. We decided to give it a burial. I held the corpse and instructed Valeska to dig a hole that would be its final resting-place. My instructions consisted of "dig deeper" explaining that the deeper the hole, the longer it would live in its next life. Her hands shoveled sand in small, rhythmic scoops following the beat of my demands, until I deemed it deep enough. After a moment of silence, we replaced the upturned ground and told the exoskeleton insect to go its way in peace.
Then I played pogs. And had really cool slammers.