(no subject)
The first time Andy and I came to New Mexico, we stayed at a hotel on Cerrillos just off of I-25, probably a Best Western or Holiday Inn or something. We had been driving for five days--Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas. It was February, cold as balls, et cetera, but the hotel had a hot tub so we went and sat in it and looked at the stars through the steam and it was one of those moments where I thought to myself 'this is something you should remember' so I reminded myself of it over and over. Soft star light and poor sleep, Soft starlight and poor sleep, Soft Starlight And Poor Sleep, like a mantra. Incarnation. Untravellable road.
We only stayed in Santa Fe for a day--two years ago now--slept the next night in the back of Ferdinand and left in the morning for Chris and New Orleans.
See what I mean about the sentiment.
Last night there was a pretty good snow, so Andy and I went for a walk. I talked to him about how I don't have much desire to live. Andy talked about how he felt static, stuck. I'm not sure that either of us is really okay. We looked at photography monographs for a while then walked to IHOP and shared one of those never ending stacks of pancakes, turned around and went home. I think about silly things. Valentine's Day. Andy's birthday. Shallow parties, playing mirror mirror. What the past means. Dress up games.
I want to wear fedoras and glass beaded dresses. Smoke sweet cigarettes. Kiss until my whole body hurts.