steal me, world. i want to be stolen.

[muse]

I really, really miss my friend, soul-mate compadre, poet bulllshit-talker, Latino in gringo skin, logan phillips. Of my Arizona friends, he is one of the most missed. Well, he and growling-voiced Dan Seaman, are like the dream-team that circle my head nights when the moon hangs low and dips her fingertips into the dirty rivers of Philadelphia.

Comments

[i]

damn. that was intense.

[razz]

These posts, proof of your existence, always fill my heart. It's so good to see someone being so uniquely and expressively themselves, since it seems like most people try so hard to fit in and be like everyone else.

[queenpersephone]

No longer? So whats the turbulent-plan-without-being-a-plan plan? I think you should sneak away to New York, slink on to the train with your dangerous smile and dare the city to fuck with you. Then come visit me and we can start a riot, inhaling the city and exhaling freedom. I promise, its so worth it.

[sixfiftytwo]

I don't know you at all, but every time I read you, I fall further in love with your prose and your heart.

Keep an eye out, I might steal you.

[pattersonphoto]

"My heart is a leaping fish that wants to be caught and released"

I always figured that beeing caught and released would have to be deeply terrifying for a fish, part of the terror would come from a total incomprehension on the fishes part of what was happening. I wonder if they make sense of it all after they are thrown back.

I would expect your heart knows how to wield wisdom from past confusions.