i like to tell stories

Please Press Play

– – –

Martha’s Bells

Great, Grand, Daughter

Same State, Same City, Same Ballet, Same Hotel, Different Room, Different Skin, Different Time

SCAR

 
703 Days Before I Knew
 

 
393 Days Before I Knew
 

 
Fly Little Man Fly, I Didn’t See You Coming
 

 
I Made 4000+ Of You, You Made Less Than 10 Of Me
This Is Me Inside Of You
 
You Made By Me & Me Made By You

 
You Ate Me, I Ate You More
 

 
You Drank Me, I Drank You More
 

 
Me & I Forever Intoxicated

 
June 2010 – Texas State Sporting Clay Championships – 56th Place, AA Class

– – –

April/May 2010:

3rd, 1st, 1st, 2nd, 4th – A & AA Class, Texas

– – –

After June 2010, I only competed in one more registered competition:

October 2010 128th Place, AA Class, National Championships | October 2009 4th Place, A Class, National Championships
 

 
I Cannot Tell The Difference Between The Blue Of Your Eyes, That Blue Wall Or That Blue Sky

You Both Brought Your Favorite Dress For Me

I Don’t Really Know You Or You & You Don’t Know Each Other

329 Days & ONE ONE ONE (111) ZERO Miles (111+0) Separate You

One Of You Brought A Yellow Dress & The Other Of You Brought A Blue Dress

Chance Would Have It, The Same Dress

Dies Lunae XI Julius MMXI

– – –

touch to own touchable

 



 
Please Press Play
 
 

 

 
“You’re Not Safe Around Me”
 



 

This Day 348

 


 
– – –
 

15 Years

This Is Me Not Looking

14 Years, 4 Months

I Want Your Beautiful

20 Years, 2 Months

OTLMBS

J J L E A C

Я не слышу и я не могу дотронуться то что я могу только читать и не вижу в плоть

 

A Father I Met & A Mother & A Mother I Have Not Must Heal

SUBJECT:

Re: I like you swore eternal love, and left, as can that be?

BODY:

Hi – do you remember how we made love in your car? Mmm like it was perfect – the stars, moon, sky – and the lights of the city, here in Russia that does not happen again, I want you to come if you do not mind, write me!

1/12

4/12

6/12

8/12

9/12

Today

 
I Made Three Of You In Two Seconds
 

 
I Made Two Of You In Three Thousand Seventy Seconds
 
– – –
 
Again | Again | Again

Los Angeles

1994

A contact form was submitted at your site. Here is the information received:

~tell_me_a_story:

I’m back in _________. I see you in the ________ in front of the ______ ______ _______, every time I walk by.

email: [name@site.com]

name: [a woman’s before she changed it]

24 October 2011 – 20:23 PDT

Volunteer & Conquer

– – –

 
He Goes Then It Goes And Kiss The Violets
 

I Looked Her Right In The Eyes From A Breath Away & Said What I Felt Out Loud With All My Heart

SUBJECT:

Re: this is why i don’t tell people my business

BODY:

Dobre tortury i złe. I zakocha się w was nie mogę znieść, co robisz. Ci, którzy nie mogą iść w tą samą ręką. To po prostu wstyd, że nie jest łatwo, to wszystko. Jesteś wkurzaj mnie, możesz mnie bezpodstawnie, bardzo, bardzo, bardzo szczęśliwy.

– – –

“Guard Me From Everything”

Good torture, and bad. I fall in love with you; I can’t stand what you do. Those can’t go in the same hand. It’s just a shame it’s not easy, that’s all. You piss me off, you make me unduly, incredibly, incredibly, incredibly happy.

Last Night While I Was Sleeping, Bacteria Attacked Your Blood

This Bacteria, It Raised Your Temperature, It Slowed Your Heart & This Shocked You

Your Blood Is My Blood, So Here, I Give That You Gave Me, Back

My Temperature Is Low, My Heart Beats Too Much & Today, Nothing Shocks Me

This My All Day, 11-11-11, Not Your I.C.U

Hold this me I made in your hands.
Hold this me I made in your hands.
 
Look down at your hands, look at my child.
Look down at your hands, look at my child.

See This Man I Made, See I Am His Architect

Hear Our Echo

Rapture

Seen Seven Source Site

This Day My All Day Would Have Been Your Birthday

Last Year At Midnight On November 3rd, Your Birthday, I Started 113 Stories
One Story Every 20 Minutes For 37 Hours, When I Was 37
This Day, I Made 211 Photographs, I Don’t Know Why

This Was You Three Days Before Your Last Birthday

This Was The Day You Died, This Day Twenty-Nine, This My All Day

I Had Once Come To Stay Where You No Longer Could

I Was Once King Edward Here As Long As I Should

Like You, I Shut Your Curtains & I Dream, I Pray

For The Three-Sixty-Five Ago I Cannot Say

 
– – –
 

My Father Is One Of The Men You Made

When Night Fell, I Saw A Woman Who Made Herself Myth

I Saw The Real Backs Of Three Sources

I Saw The False Fronts Of Three Fantasies

I Saw A Man Pretending To No Longer Be Alive, On This First Day My Fathers Source Now No Longer Is

I Saw A Woman Pretending To Be One Thing, When In Fact She Was Really Something Very Other

This Woman Bent Down And Placed The Myth On His Closed Eyes While Looking At Mine

This Woman Then Returned To Her Other And Showed Me How She Kisses Him

This Woman, Not Long Later, Then Caught Him & Carried Him Away

As This Other She Kissed Had Just Buckled, Faltered & Fainted

In Front Of Us All I Could See, The She & He I Wish Was Me

A Woman Took To The Stage & Told Us A Story Of Her Accident, A Story Of Her Hand, This Hand & How It Had Once Been Severed From Her

This Hand Was Put Back On Almost Scar-Less, So She Gave It One To Remember & Let Me See Its Message

For Your Journey & For Mine

 
Legacy

 
While You Were Sleeping & While I Was, 5 Days Before Your Birthday & 194 Days Before Mine

1924 To This Day Twenty-Nine
 

 
– – –
 

 
We Were King Edward

I left where I stay now to walk to the ocean, I have not seen it here yet this time. I found you almost right way. All of you had been eaten away except for those wings now so useless for flight without your heart once big enough to take you anywhere, up. So I took these wings and put them on the back of a Hawk who I never want to stop trying to fly.

I got to the ocean but between me and it was an unexpected man made valley, a man made crater, launching men in the air choked with fog. They were given 30 minutes to try and fly higher than the next. The Hawk here did something like no other before him but today he was not trying to do it again. One man here was however and before that water falling from the sky got us all too wet, try after try for the elusive two and half circles, he did just that, 900. I then turned around to walk back to where I stay at the start of that eruption of noise he made.

I still haven’t seen the ocean here.

This All Day 22

HAWK 900

 
FO The 3 Man Wants To Smash Your Box – This All Day 20
 

SUBJECT:

Oh my gosh.

BODY:

You have no idea how sad, sad, about to stick a needle in my eye sort of sad I am. Long, drawn out personal history shortly aside, I’ve had a lot of family issues in the last month or so and have been all but absent in the email department. Combine that with losing both of my jobs (one June 1st, one as of the coming August) and my house (sold from under my apartment renter’s feet this summer), and I should try and unstick my foot from my mouth a little bit. But, oh no, no no no. Instead, I feel like not only should my foot be tonsil friendly but so should my other foot, probably both of my hands, and at least something that doesn’t usually belong there as well because we missed you being in Texas! I can’t believe it. And after the Yankovich birthday song! Someone needs to push the restaurant table full of china into my lap while yelling something at me with a red face because [rotating woman’s nickname] and I have been really really (did I say we definitely have been) wanting to meet you in actual person sometime. So much so. So much so that as soon as we’re officially let go (we work at the same place, both jobs) we might come and see you instead. Wherever in the world you are. I think a roadtrip is an absolute necessity, and I can promise an excellent soundtrack and the best homemade rumcake in the world. Is that a good start? Boy, I can’t even tell you how rotten missing that mail is. You should have seen how red [rotating woman’s nickname] face got when we saw the date. I’d say you’re now on the side where we owe you. I know you don’t really know us, but let me tell you, that’s not a bad side to be on. I hope this email finds you well. I’ll dislodge all inappropriate appendages from my mouth now, thank you.

[maybe not a real name of a real woman] & [rotating woman’s nickname who I was scared of but wanted to meet and couldn’t]

Oh! When’s your birthday?

– – –

– – –

 
A Minnesota Man & A 3 Month Early California Man Nourished Me – This All Day 20
 

– – –

OTLMBS

 
– – –
 

I was in the box this night of this all day 20 when a woman approached me and 3 Month Early California Man. She wanted to record us with her forever machine, I blushed and of course agreed. I like that someone wanted to take my picture and I didn’t care why. I gave her some me so she could choose to know more or not. Then she went away.

Not long later, she came back to me and I think took another. She had just heard a story about me and was now touching my arm. I liked this too only now I didn’t blush. Her touch felt nice.

Not long later, she took more of me in between taking some of others. She did this because she knew I was staring, we were both smiling. Then she gave me some of her so I could choose to know more or not, as well. Before I left this box, I walked up from behind her, put one hand on her hip, reached my other arm out as far as it would go in front of us and pressed the button on my forever machine. I did this as this is what I do when I like you, woman or man, I made three this night, just like that and returned to where I stay.

I chose to know more, found her and wrote her.

Then I went where I go to find company in a place of not face to face when I am lonely. It was there I saw her… Again. You see, I had written her before, from this place not the box of this night, not knowing who she was in any other way. You see, I had not known I had written her here before we met, as well. I do not know if she knew I wrote her before this night, I do not know if she recognized me, either.

At one point this night she told me everything is a circle and I believed her. Even if our circles mean different things.

 
This Woman Not The Guinevere I Did See This All Day 19
 
Van #2 – Hammer
 

 
This Man Gus This All Day 18
 
Van #1 – Hammer
 

– – –

Start With The One, The Moment You Are Ready Or Allowed To

– – –

If it wasn’t for what you are now reading, who lives in the skin holding this constellation would not have found me.

If it wasn’t for who lives in this skin finding me, I could not be where I now am.

We had never met face to face. Tonight is that fortnight.

In astronomy, a fortnight is the mean (average) time between a full moon and a new moon (and vice versa). This is equal to 14.77 days.

I went from an area with a (code) of 210, to a place with a #number called 210.

This constellation had not ever been successfully counted. So I went one by one, looking at each one, from one to the next one, making no one no more important than any other one. Not because I wanted to know any such number of twinkles in this sky, but because I was allowed to, down right welcome to see.

This was enough.

With my forever machine and its borrowed telescope of closer observation, this astronomer mapped 206.

– – –

2 0 6

– – –
 

This constellation on skin consisted of, was made of, by my count, 206. So I took who lives in this constellation to the star maker and I had this star maker place 4 more into this sky. Now when I am in where I stay, when I look up, even when it is dark outside and even when it is light outside, in this number called 210 after I left an area coded 210, I can see this constellation skin whose map I made 210, in almost constant motion.

– – –

2 1 0

– – –
 

 
– – –
 

 

This One Is Mine, For My Ever & For Yours

This One Is Mine, For My Ever & For Yours

This One Is Mine, For My Ever & For Yours

This One Is Mine, For My Ever & For Yours

I Send Greetings + (Please Press Play)

“When the sun appears mid-sky three more times, I must be at Arizona.

What happens if you don’t get there in time?

Then they will go.

Without you?

Yes.

What will you do then?

Then, I will die.”

It Took You Three Days, It Took Me Two, I Get Everywhere I Go, Early

– – –

Go forth naked and choose only the 7 tools that fit in your hand for this journey.

These 7 tools:

They just may create a new you from a lock of hair.
They just may let you send an important message.
They just may show you a map when you need it.
They just may allow you to defend yourself.
They just may resurrect a deer from the dead.
They just may heal the one you love when they are not well.
They just may be a gift from beyond to the half you man you made here.

My 7 tools:

I chose a lock of hair stored in a film canister from a married dominatrix I loved I never hired to hurt me.
I chose a freshly removed pair of underwear from a lap dancer I did not love I did hire to please me.
I chose a double-barreled shotgun so big it breaks speakers.
I chose 4 forever machines I don’t want to show you.

“Define beautiful: Beautiful is better than terrific.”

We were in a hotel room, I was watching you change. You were almost comfortable with this, but then weren’t suddenly even though you once were. You knew how I liked to just sit and watch, everything you did. You paused before you entered the bathroom to change out of my sight. You leaned on the wall and asked me a question because I had just repeated to you what you once said to me about your other, not really me:

“That’s word for word. You.. You remember everything you hear word for word?”

“Everything I hear, everything I see, everything… Everything this body feels.”

“There is something I must tell you, I gave you a baby tonight. Believe what I tell you.
A baby of your husband but also he will be my baby. He will know everything I know.”

– – –



 

I saw a family from here before I was in the back of a truck. They helped me, just like you.

I saw a home on wheels in which to hide, to pretend is mine, just like you.

I saw a beast on rails and I heard that beast on rails as it showed me the way, just like you.

I saw a place to take pause and measure all risk, just like you.

You walked through one fire to get here and did so with no scars. I walked through never-ending and am covered in them countless.

 
– – –
 

As I walked up to the rim, the edge of this place, I could feel the energy I wanted to and my body was reacting. This was a surprise as I hadn’t yet seen it with my own eyes. I put my tools away. I walked up to the edge and I stood on the edge and I looked. I had almost not been allowed but an imaginary line drawn by others changed the time for me as I headed west, allowing me this moment. I leaned over the edge, over the moved, pushed up earth in front of me. The wind here was taking me off my feet so I leaned into it harder. I dared it to do so again and I shut my eyes and let this wind burn my skin. I stayed there, looking up, looking down, looking around and let that wind hurt me all it could until the man asked me to leave. I was now out of time.

Touch Me To See What I Saw On This Circle In 111 Inches

I walked to my chariot. My skin was still burning and the air was the coldest I have felt in a very long time. There was no hot blizzard falling from the sky and no water falling around me that I could feel. Yet, I could see both from this place. No tool of mine can change any real thing and my rescue did not answer my transmission. The one I made before here nor the one I made from this place.

“I Make Maps”

I Want To Believe

Public Building #111 – Roswell, NM – By Happenstance

(111 East 1st Street – Looking North North East With North A True One)

Not 7 Days Prior, Not Here, I Photographed Almost 500 Numbered Secret Government Buildings, Not One Of These Was #111

– – –

What I Saw Up There, Here

I WANT TO BELIEVE

– – –

My Assigned Task Was Yellow, A Few Feet To My East, I Saw Red, If Not For The One, There Would Be No Other

You’ll say,

“Did they love you or what?”

I’ll say,

“They love what I do. The only one who really loves me, is you.”

All Around Us In The Dark There Was Water Falling From That Sky
 
But Here In Only This Place, We Were Dry
 
We Could See The Lightning Up There Too But We Could Not Feel It, Either

 
Because It Was This Night Like No Other Before It, I Made Some We Could Try To

You Had Time

They tell me there is a drought here.

Yet today, outside this glass with two sides, there was a wet water falling from all over that sky.
 
– – –
 
He Would Not & My Speculation Of A Could Not, See Right Through This Glass Directly At Me From The Inside Out

Yet Today, For A Moment Only At IAH, I Could See Through The Reflecting Myth Of Color The Wet Here Likes To Create

She Can See Right Through This Glass Directly At Me From The Outside In

Tuesday

Force Protection Condition: ALPHA

Wednesday

Thursday

WAR FIGHTING LAB

Me: “Can I take your photograph?”
You: “Whose photograph?”
Me: “Your photograph. You look so beautiful.”

I was standing with my back to the road, just a few feet behind me, pointing my machine off into the nothing the other way. I happen to look to my right over my shoulder at the car coming down this road. I looked at the driver, I could see their face and this driver was looking back at me. I watched them until my neck could watch no further. So I turned my head and now looked over my left shoulder as their face vanished from view. I looked back off into the nothing. Then I heard it, a squeal of tires. So I turned my head again and saw this car almost come to a stop before it struck the car stopped in front of it.

DETECT DETER DEFEND

Friday

I Gave You Brittany

OTLMBS

Black Seminole Commander Man Land

 

 
– – –
 





My Blood Land Is On Fire & I Know Who & I Know Why & It Is So Hot & I Was So Close & I Could Feel’d It On My Two Backs





I saw you load your cars with all whom you love.
I saw you load your cars with all that you loved you could hold in your hands.
I saw you all do this as fast as you can. I saw you all leave your blood homes behind to burn.
I once saw and met and was inside someone that likes doing this to you and to me, repeatedly, for their Joy.


Flee Your Own Blood, With All Your Heart

With Every Front Page I See, I Wonder About The Length Of Your Hair

I had been waiting for it to happen. Then it did. Someone did, it was not me. They took you and put you in the grass, this yard off to the side, out of the way. This someone cared enough about you for at least that. Then, over time, you were eaten by one after another that fought over you, sought you out as their source then moved on while countless more kept feeding. I don’t know who you were, but I can say with some certainty, you were once mine and that I saw you like no one else ever had or will or could. You were not my source and it never occurred to me to eat you like this or leave you like this, yet –

I can still taste your scent and I cannot bury you here.

I Gotta Repent


– – –

I Am Running Out Of Time

(I Thought She Had A Scar Where She Did Not)





Never Sleep For Wanting Hours

(I Faked An Eclipse Because Of The Real One I Can Remember)





Something More Than Mockery

(I Came Through A Door Of Green Only When Requested To Do So)


– – –

Little sparrow, little sparrow
Precious fragile little thing
Little sparrow, little sparrow
Flies so high and feels no pain
All ye maidens heed my warning
Never trust the hearts of men
For they will crush you like a sparrow
Leaving you to never mend
They will vow to always love you
Swear no love but yours will do

And then they’ll go on and court another

Break your little heart in two

Of a cold false-hearted lover
And his evil cunning scheme





Little sparrow, little sparrow
Precious fragile little thing
Little sparrow, little sparrow
Flies so high and feels no pain

Little sparrow, little sparrow
Oh the sorrow never ends


– – –

Everything was okay as it ever was, yet I was up, pacing inside your castle. I watched you sleep as I stood by the window. Outside, it was snowing. It wouldn’t stop and it was beautiful. I didn’t want it to stop. The city was shut down, just like I liked it. I felt the draft of cold air all over my body. I shivered, you kept sleeping. I could see your almost naked through and around the sheets. I let the blind go closed, walked over to your bed and crawled in next to you.

You were warm.

– – –

Today my chariot told me it was 117 degrees outside my window.

Silence Longer Than A Sound, Today, This Minute, Then Gone, Just Like That

I told you this would happen, then it did, for the again and the since, not just you. I don’t know how many times anymore, for I have lost count. I was the last before the hyphen. Now I don’t know, because I am not sure what I have seen, but that day you became his Mrs., you looked like you, but different. Your hair was different, it wasn’t like it was when I use to look at you, stare at you and press this forever button on my machine. I wasn’t looking today, I wasn’t even trying to see.

I didn’t want to see, but the + showed me against my will only what I already believed.

I didn’t mean to find these either, I had placed them far away for that forever distant, someday… I found them by happenstance, also, this same day.

– – –

– – –

– – –

– – –

You hated my forever machine, well, all forever machines.
It never bothered me, even when you confessed to me, that it bothered you.
I liked it when you let me see you through this machine sometimes.
I liked it when it made you cry with its weight.
You knew how heavy it can be.

Today is your birthday and this is what we looked like on my first together.
That day, my present was being allowed to look, forever. I still have the card, somewhere.

This name I choose for myself, is the name of the murderous son of Eve.
This name I did not choose for myself, is the same name of your one love true.
This was not a surprise, the second you looked at me.

– – –

قايين | קין | Κάιν

I was walking from the restaurant to my chariot, I had just made a photograph of myself and was about to hit that blue button to send it. I was standing by my chariot, about to unlock and enter the drivers door. I felt something on the back of my shirt, it felt like someone was almost trying to lift it up. Before I turned around, I thought to myself, I am alone, I parked here in this spot away from everyone, there was no one close, this I knew. It got more forceful, this flutter of my shirt started to become more violent. I leaned into my chariot just before I turned around to see what it was, my instincts had taken over, get away, get away, get away.

I started to run softly as I finally turned to see what it was and it didn’t register till I was in a full sprint across the parking lot. It was two wings, two talons and one beak. It was a small dark grey or black bird, I couldn’t really tell, it was behind me. I was still feeling it as I kept trying to get away, only it got more and more forceful. It was starting to hurt and now, I knew just what was happening. I kept running. I stumbled but it did not stop and the force grew stronger, I was now crawling on hands and feet trying to get out of my own way. It did not stop.

I got back to my two feet and sprinted this way and a little that way. It was always right there, on my back, scratching at me, attacking me. It would not stop. I started to run to the door of the restaurant and as I got close, it stopped. I stood still, I looked around, I could not see where my attacker had gone. I looked at my chariot, back across the small lot. It didn’t look that far, I thought to myself, I can make it. I took a few steps forward, all seemed well. I stepped off the curb, all seemed well. A car pulled up and blocked my path, this car was between me and the safety of my chariot. The drivers window went down a few inches and while laughing, the man inside next to his woman said, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I think so, just scratches.”

I was about to say more when suddenly this man’s woman screamed while this man, he said to me sternly, “Look out!”

The attack resumed. I started to run around this man’s car back towards my chariot as I heard his tires squeal and then they were gone. It felt harder this time and higher, higher up my back and on the back of my neck, I felt feathers, I felt beak, I felt talons. I felt hate. I fell down almost back at my chariot, the attacker circled up and made a bigger circle in the sky. I then made it into the passenger side of my chariot.

Bleeding.

“I Never See It Coming“

This is not just a story that is true and this is not a confession. This is something that happen, I wrote down.

This is my forever and you will have to try harder to remove my skin.

I know whose hand to ask for help making this electronic ink, deeper.

7 Days & 7 Nights, In This Order Of These Things


There Are Forces That Pretend They Are One Thing When They Are Really Another, They Fool You And They Fool Me, More

– – –

This Is What It Looks Like While I Am Sleeping

Twins Were Born This Night Of A Circle, The Day You Died, So Did A Wizard

This Night Of A Circle, This Day You Died, So Did A Dripping Widow

A Liar Swan Was Born This Night Of A Circle, The Day You Died, So Did A Swan SuperMan

Ride On A Bolivar Vessel

I parked my chariot and walked to the ramp. I wanted to take this vessel all the way one way and then all the back, right back to where I started, I had no idea how long this journey would take. Tonight, this night, details like that, well, they just didn’t matter. So this is exactly what I did. It was already late, already dark when I arrived. Everyone else, almost everyone else, was in a vehicle. I was almost the only one on foot.

It was night and the sky above was all black.

PLEASE DO NOT LEAVE SMALL CHILDREN UNATTENDED

“She Came Alive When She Saw The Camera” – Hear Me Make This, Forever

press play

My Lips Are Stained Forever & The Hair Of My Eyebrows Grows Longer, Everyday

Sheath Of Batters On This Hired Not Son Of Adam & Eve

Accept this, stand here, just like this. Hold your arms, your hands, just like this. Now, look at me, do not move.

That’s right, you better call me sir.

For The Barron, Again, This Man Of Chosen Texas Land

– – –

321 Separated Days From Before
On The Day Of A 3 & A 21
A Day Of Shared Birth
Separated By 365 Days

YACKXYAFFX Split In 2 | 5 Letters of Responsibility In The Name Of This Named Man
[$6.9 Billion (or) Almost $7,000,000,000.00]

This man has a faith in something he cannot see but believes in more than I can believe in what I can.

I stepped outside to feel the air, I had been inside too long. There were shadows on the ground this night that were not usually there. So I looked up to find their source. There it is was again, that shape in the sky that only shows its real light in the dark. So I went inside and got my machine and returned to outside. I stared at that source through my machine. I stood on the curb across the street and stared at that shape through it, again, like I have done, before. Then I heard it. “Get off my property or I’ll call the police.” I looked down at my feet, I was the curb, the public curb. I looked towards the source of this noise. There stood a half naked mad woman. I looked back up at that shape through my machine. Then I heard it again, “Get off my property or I’ll call the police!” she screamed, walking closer. I could see through her top, I could see the shapes of her, too. I did not want to nor do I understand why she wanted to show me.

I just stood there, I was not on her property nor had I broken any law. The half naked mad woman got closer and screamed the same thing, louder. So I turned towards the half naked mad showing me things I was not looking to see woman and said, “I am not on your property. I have not broken a law. My name is Jonathan Saunders (my whole real name) and I live across the street. (I said my real address). If you want to call the police, their number is 911. (The real number for the police). This conversation is over.” I went back to looking through my machine and recording the shape source in the sky. The half naked mad woman kept getting closer and screaming louder. I think maybe she thought the louder she screamed or closer she got or the easier she made it to see her nakedness, the more she thought she was correct, yet no matter how loud she screamed it didn’t mean I broke a law. Half naked mad screaming woman got closer and threatened louder. I started laughing and reached for my phone, it was time to call the police on her. I stopped laughing when I realized my phone was on my desk, inside.

I heard a man’s voice now. So I looked past half naked screaming mad woman and there on the porch was a half naked screaming at her man. I don’t know why he wanted me to see him almost naked either. “Leave him alone, just call the police.” Half naked screaming mad woman ignored screaming at her half naked man and kept screaming at me. I started laughing again. “Woman, you better listen to me!” said half naked screaming man, “If you ain’t going to listen to me woman, [unintelligible threat], I’ll call the police.” Half naked screaming at her man never addressed me directly, I don’t know why. I looked back at the shape source in that sky through my machine. Half naked screaming mad woman was still screaming at me as I stood in the middle of the street now, having stepped away from her as she continued her threats and ever stepping closer. I was not going to let her and her half naked madness hurt me.

Half naked screaming mad woman was still screaming at me and half naked screaming at her man was still screaming at her. I turned towards half naked screaming mad woman, now standing too close to me and said once again, “This conversation is over.” This time, I said it louder. It seemed loud must have been her language because she stopped screaming for a moment and looked at me, it must have finally sank in. Half naked screaming mad woman now quietly said, “Jonathan, how is your grandmother?”

– – –

The next day inside where I stay, I knocked over a box and things spilled out. I picked up one of these things and held it up to circular fake light source above me for my machine to record. This thing looked just like what I had made a few hours ago only this thing I made a night not last night, but a night 22 years ago, 22 years ago + only a few days. That night 22 years ago had been the same. I saw the day circle light source vanish through trees in one direction and the other direction, I saw the night circle light source rise through trees, too. The air outside had been warm that day also and that night 22 years ago, also staring at that shape in the sky that only shows its real light in the dark, staring at it through my machine, the air had turned just as cool as last night. I can still feel that same breeze, blowing.

I cannot escape myself, even when I want to, this is The Shape Of Things.

In 22 years from today, I hope I am no longer a sucker, for shapes.

Along The Road Of The Only Texas Man Who Stood Alone In 1922

I saw the smoke coming, there was no way to drive around it, it was too late, I had to go through.

Not long before this, I had waited in my usual circle to catch a loved one falling from the sky. Now, I was alone going to where I stay as I had no where to else to go. I saw the smoke on the horizon and all the lights revolving in their circles in the dark, too. The men with guns who I learned this same day, sometimes hate me and you for our machines, would not let me stop, not let me turn around, I had to go through. So I put the windows down, let the smoke blow from one opening in my chariot across to the other and I took a deep breath in. It smelled like a home I had not known or smelled in almost 10 years. So I pulled over. I walked to far away where I could still not see any source, just smoke over the mesh of grass. I took another breath. Yes, this smell was Fall 2001 New York City smell.

Only differently different the same.

I couldn’t see anything from where I was. Others were spreading up the bank, the berm overlooking the other berm. All those revolving lights, all those men of paid help down there I couldn’t see, I didn’t want to see. The smoke was slowly leaving it’s source. The burning was ending. I couldn’t hear anything. No engines, no sirens, no radios. Just the slow of traffic, crawling by. Just the wind, crawling by, too. I don’t know where it came from, I don’t know who said it, I cannot confirm it and I do not want to, but it seemed said from down there, where I couldn’t see or want to see. “We have had a fatality here.” When the smoke cleared, I saw a tree where I could not, before. It was 1:30:09am CST and 2:30:09am EST – 8 June 2011.

– – –

Later this tonight, I put chemicals in my body so I could sleep and then I waited for their victory over me. I did this as someone specific I love, somewhere, specific, this day, maybe right now, is having chemicals put in their body to put them to sleep, too. Only they were/are/going to sleep so they will not feel the pain when they lay down, on a table, to put be cut open, to be repaired with a mesh – Sometime 8 June 2011.

I also just learned that someone specific I love, loved one birthed a man, at 2:24am EST – 8 June 2011.

Today, right now or for all I know, much longer, my brain is victory over chemicals.

I will not lie down, till you wake up.

While I Guess You Were Sleeping

8 June 2011

learned later –

“Elizabeth, 22, was pronounced dead at the scene… just after 1 a.m.

A passer-by pulled the woman out of the burning vehicle, but she succumbed to her injuries, police said.”

known before –

If I had been born a woman, my name would have been Elizabeth.

I watched a film about a man chasing an endless wind named after a machine that tries to catch it, too. In his pursuit, there was a woman among several, yet this one, she would before the end of him maybe mean the most.

She had told him a yes.

I had heard of this woman before. I didn’t know she was to be in his pursuit until he was shared after he and all of him was gone. Yes, that kind of gone. I was allowed to see this all he was, this was a gift, his and her gift, for me and for you should you find it, too.

This woman was to be up the road from where I stay, telling a story while making new ones. I wanted to go, I wanted to hear, more. I got in my chariot and started up the road only to quickly turn around. I didn’t want to have the same machine all that went to listen to her did. So I returned to where I stay, retrieved a different machine and got back on the road. I had decided that if the moment presented itself, I wanted to have a portrait of her, too. Her, standing alone, the wind in her hair. Not just because this man’s wind was once in her’s, but because of what she makes, too.

I drove 90 miles, entered a restaurant to relieve some pressure and while doing so, noticed I had a roach on my chest crawling upwards towards my face. Shortly later, I arrived at the goal, early. So I sat alone far away and watching. I approached the man a different man I know calls the pope. As I started to introduce myself, the pope shrugged it off. The pope said he would know that face, my face, under any light or color. The pope told me he watches me. I said, “You must be that one.” To which he replied, “Just because no one is talking out loud, don’t think no one is looking.” I handed the pope the best of me bound in many pages and started to leave. This pope, told me to stop and first endorse these pages of me as my best. We had no scribe so one was found. I thanked him for all he shares, too.

I saw who I came to see only from afar. When I first saw her, it was like I already had. I saw the wind blow her hair with my own eyes before the sun went down this day. I sat in the dark later and listened to her tell stories, too. I decided this was enough. I made nothing, I asked her nothing and I did not meet her. I was ready to return. There were all the reasons in the world to tell her a thank you, but I no longer felt I had to.

I then drove 60 miles towards backwards. I stopped for nourishment. I sat alone in an empty restaurant and when I looked down into my ketchup, there was a fly, trapped in it.

All 13 May 2011 – At The Start Of Others – Texas

I needed white pantyhose, I thought they would reflect more light. So I went to Target®.

I went to the hose section carrying my empty red basket. I started looking at all the different kinds up and down the isle and realized I had never bought pantyhose before. I remember however that once upon a time they were sold in what looked like Easter eggs and I missed that. I kept looking.

After a few moments of not finding white, I noticed a male Target® security guard coming towards me, dressed head to toe in black. Black cargo pants, black short sleeve button down with pockets on the chest, a sewn on badge of some sort in the shape of a shield, glasses, big black shoes, black hair and some sort of artfully sculpted facial hair. At this same moment from the other direction I noticed a female Target® employee coming towards me, khaki pants, red shirt, I got the impression this was her section, this pantyhose section.

I got uncomfortable. I thought they were coming to talk to me and I froze and stared down at my empty red basket. Instead, they both walked right by me and went to the dressing room area just behind me out of my sight.

I hear a knock knock knock.

“Sir, are you alright?” Said the male Target® security guard.

Silence.

“Sir, are you alright?” Said the male Target® security guard. This time, much louder.

I hear a male voice,

“Um. Oh. Yes. Sir. I am okay. I am sorry, I was on the phone.”
(I had heard nothing).

“We’ve had some complaints.” Said the male Target® security guard.

Male voice,

“Oh. Okay. I’ll go.”

I stopped staring down at my empty red basket and went back to looking for what I came for, I still couldn’t find white hose. I turned and went to look on the end of the aisle display. Just as I did this, I noticed a red cart coming right at me, fast. I jumped to the side quickly to get out of its path. All I could see was red cart, high heels and blond hair barreling directly at me. At the last moment before impact, the cart swerved and went right by. As I looked I saw it was actually a man pushing this cart. Short acid wash mini-skirt high above the knee, nondescript button down subtle top buttoned almost all the way up and two strong muscular fine looking legs that didn’t seem to quit until falling into two high heels. On top, on top was a small tightly fitting wig of false blond hair with bangs hiding two eyes, both looking straight down, right down at the floor.

I went back to looking for what I came for, I still couldn’t find white hose.

Male Target® security guard and female Target® employee came walking by me now, both laughing. Female Target® employee says,

“I can’t even walk that good in heels.”

Male Target® security guard laughs louder.

I decide it is time for me to leave the hose section. I go off to the grocery section and I find chocolate pudding. I suddenly desired it after not wanting any in a very long time. I put the chocolate pudding in my empty red basket and this bothered me, this is not why I came to Target®, I did not come here for chocolate pudding. So I went back to the hose section and decided to just ask for help.

I saw a different female Target® employee sitting at a computer at a counter by the dressing rooms and hose section. I could only see her from the neck up, but this seemed like maybe it could be her section too. She seemed much younger than I am and I when I first said, “Excuse me?” She also seemed friendly. She had dark hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, was also wearing khaki pants and also wearing a red shirt. A very tight red shirt. This red shirt was so tight on her chest, one could see the outline and every seam of her bra underneath it and through it. This red shirt was very tight.

Me,
“Do you have any white hose?”

Red shirt,
“Um, I am not sure, let me check the computer. I don’t see any, let me ask.”

Red shirt goes on the store loudspeaker and asks.

The telephone next to her computer and behind the counter rings, red shirt answers, looks at me and asks,
“Is it for a woman?”

Me,
“Yes.”

Red shirt,
“Sir, we only carry white hose for little girls.”

Me, turning red,
“Um, okay. Thank you for checking.”

I walked away from that counter and went to the check out, this Target® was closing soon.

My red basket upon checkout:

Sheer Energy Off White Control Top – $4.50
Hanes Sheer 2 Pack Black Knee High – $5.49
Oscar Mayer 16oz Family Size Turkey Meat – $5.49
Campbells Spaghetti O’s (2) – $1.88
Coca-Cola 2 Liter – $1.49
Chocolate Pudding Pack (6) – $3.04

Total w/ tax = $22.84

In my following visits to this Target® since that night and since I have now told you, I have made four photographs there. In the photograph I made of myself in the monitor, I didn’t know it when I took it, but the woman coming at me through those doors, She Hearts NY. I know this as I could see this written in black with a heart of red, right there on her white shirt.

I wonder how she knows I miss it.

ball·room/ˈbôlˌro͞om

Noun: A large room used for dancing.

i like to tell stories – quarterly number eleven – touch me

Press Play

– – –

21 May 2011 | 19:33:25 CST

May 21 [2011] would be the date of the Rapture and the day of judgment, “Beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

It would occur at 6 p.m. local time, with the rapture sweeping the globe time zone by time zone.

After

Heard, 26 May 2011 | 13:46:00
– unknown source from in the air

Press Play

– – –

21 May 2011 | 17:57:30 CST

May 21 [2011] would be the date of the Rapture and the day of judgment, “Beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

It would occur at 6 p.m. local time, with the rapture sweeping the globe time zone by time zone.

150 Unknown Seconds Away

Press Play

– – –

21 May 2011 | 17:18:41 CST

May 21 [2011] would be the date of the Rapture and the day of judgment, “Beyond the shadow of a doubt.”

It would occur at 6 p.m. local time, with the rapture sweeping the globe time zone by time zone.

Be Safe, Forever

The Day I Know I Was Born Was The Day I Think You May Have Died

365 Days Ago Was The Day I Was Definitely Born, Also

&

The Day I Could Have Died, Also

– – –

Imagine once living in your favorite place and then imagine not being able to live there anymore. Imagine that you once made this favorite place of yours any color and any way you wanted. Now, imagine your new pleasure is that two of your four walls are a different color than the average. Now, imagine not being able to hear what you wanted whenever you wanted. Imagine that silence inside yourself. Now, imagine that you are not able to just get up and leave, here, to do something you may want to. Imagine your forever promise circle having to be cut off with tools. Imagine that others come find you in the night, wake you standing above your bed, in that silence you are stuck in, telling you, fighting you to hear them tell you what they want, what they believe, how they want to feel better, because they no longer even know where they are or who you are, or, they are. They just see you there. Do they know you are the source of my father?

My grandsource, what colors do you see when you look up at your two Sun’s?

The flowers someone gave you this day look nothing like what grows just outside.

– – –

The Alamo That Made Jonathan

Here, in this place where I walk in circles, I see how it looks while I await you to fall from the sky.

Two Circles Of A Day In Circumferences of 12:50 & 15:02

4th Day, 5th Month, All Day, A Bull Man With The Official Beginning K

Press Play

When I turned 18, America forcibly taught me my life was less valuable than a woman’s. I never got over this, even twenty years to the day minus five. I don’t know where you’re from. I don’t know what you learned. I don’t know how you learned it. I know I didn’t invite you here. I know I didn’t ask you anything. I know I didn’t say anything to you. I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t know if you want my money. I don’t know if you want my attention. You just appeared here all on your own, a MAPS spelled backwards, deaf, mute and blind to any real me, seeing you. I waited for you to leave, as is my nature, but my source of energy died.

So how did you know how old I almost was? How do you know I shave my head? How did you know it’s hard to be me? How did you know I cannot catch on? How do you know I don’t know what I am doing? How did you know I am an asshole? How did you know I am terrified of you? Do you really think I am fine?

Do you really want to thank me?

“They Don’t Get Life The Way I Get It”

I stole the birthday wish of my brother’s daughter.

I wished I was turning 7 again & I wished it won’t hurt when I die.

See Album – City Of The Violet Crown

One, Of A Five Volume Album Set

The First Settlement

City Of The Violet Crown

153

Queen Edward

122

We had hundreds and hundreds of phone calls, many many video chats, uncountable texts and thousands of electronic letters totaling some maybe 100,000+? words. (I again tried to count and gave up, my first estimate here was so very wrong). This was all in far far under the last two years. Yet, I only met you, saw you in person, 5 times. We stayed in 5 hotels and you were welcomed in 2 homes of those that love me and sometimes share those homes with me. You, you never invited me, to any real you.

After our 4th meeting and before our 5th, I was planning this next trip of ours, excitedly looking at maps. You know how I love maps. I was planning my drive as your car was broken and you were on the way between where I stay and where we were going to go. So finally, I asked you, what I should have never not known, directly and simply,

“What is your address?”

You said, “I live in #### StreetName St., CityName, StateName #####”

The street address did not even match the zip code. I pretended this was all okay anyway, even though I knew this address was not real. I still wanted to see you. See you in person. None of these calls, none of these texts, none of these electronic letters mattered anymore. Who are you, when you stand in front of me.

We would still meet just days later, not where I stay, not where you live, not in the empty lot you told me you did, but at a place almost half way between us, found as we drove towards one another. In this meeting I almost didn’t come to myself, after a photograph I had made of us this day sank in, a photograph I asked if I could make, sank in, after the good and bad of this day sank in, after the words we shared sank in, after I watched and waited for you to sleep, or pretend to, while curled up in a ball next to me, I quietly left in all that dark when I didn’t really want to. I had decided you were correct in what you told me last time I left sooner than expected, so much time before this day, you said, “You don’t even know me.” That was all I was trying to do, all along. Know you. I never learned and you never wanted me to.

When I last heard you, you said it was funny experiences mean different things to different people who were both there. The last time you wrote me, you were proud that no one you know even knows you know me. There were so many things I asked directly, that I would only learn, later, on the internet, didn’t match. These were things that weren’t what I was allowed or taught to believe, all along. All along, you knew I was wrong and you didn’t correct me, once. I learned more about you from the internet, than you ever told me, directly. There is so much more, so much more, so much more – but my heart, my mouth and my brain are tied and tied by me alone.

Months after I last saw you, I did find where you really live, from a map, on the internet and I told you so. As you long ago told me, everyone, on the internet, your small neighborhood. As you long ago showed me, everyone, on the internet, what your home looks like. As you sent me long ago, a picture of a street sign, scarily closer than you likely even know… All I did, was learn, to put all these things together. I learned to doubt. I learned to doubt my eyes. I learned to doubt my ears. I learned to doubt your everything. So long ago, I stopped looking, at your everything. All this meeting you has taught me, was to doubt, everything, in a world I once found very beautiful. The world on the internet and the world not. Yet, you never stopped clawing me for it, teasing me for it, using parts of my specific me only I could see, for your others, time after time and times three on your birthday and the day after. Who knows for who or for how many or for why. Know not I. Today, this day, was the day I was born and tomorrow is the day after.

What + How, Do I Pretend I Didn’t Ever, Now, Clearly See + All

I Am 1 Of 1, Whatever I Am, I Risked More Than I Had For A Chance I Didn’t, I Told You True




“I can no longer see the point in making images I cannot share.” – Me, Being Read Back To Me, By You

Read Once Again After I Made A Thousand+ Images Of You & Before I Made Thousands+ More

By One Year And Less Than Minutes In A Day Is This Man

On This Day Of Mine Or This Day Of His, This Year, There Could Have Been Another


Someday, There Will Be

Press Play

Stand in this place of a

Dead man who was once a Living man

here. Look in the opposite direction of North.

Then turn in a circle, slowly, all the way around.

Do this until the opposite direction of North

is once again the way you look.

This Is The Inside View

Of A Circle

My Whole Life, The One Thing I Can Remember, As Far Back As I Am Able

Is That There Is Something I Feel I Await, As Every Day Goes By

I Imagine I Will Continue To Await, Everyday, As Far As I Am Able, To Remember

Or Until Whatever I Await Does Arrive & I Know It, In That Moment, Before It Looks Away

Time Feels Different To Me Than It Seems To For You

Home I No Longer Have, I Want You Returned To Me

I Didn’t Need Or Use This Google® Map, I Thought I Could Remember Without It, And I Did

East Beach, Galveston Texas

– – –

I once watched a woman who made things online for years. I wanted to get to know her, someday, but other than 3-4 random emails over many many many months, I never gave it much effort. You see, I didn’t want to be another random male follower to be placated to or ignored, as she has thousands of those already… I wanted to mean more than that. I knew she would have to find me. I even told a story or two of metaphor about her, for her, long before all did happen.

One day, she emailed me, she had finally seen me correctly. This started an avalanche of emails each way, I would not text first, I would not call first, I would not video chat first, I would not come see her in person first. She did, each of these things, first.

Before we ever met, she was once on a drive to a beach. She called me to keep her company on her drive, told me where she was heading and where she was. I was at my computer so I looked up where she was and I told her so. I told her as I looked at the street views of her drive what was coming up, things to look for and that I was in that sky up above her, happily watching. She was getting close and going through light after light, I kept pointing out things and she would tell me when she saw them. She told me this was romantic, I told her I agreed. She then got to where she was going. She parked her car and described what she saw, I told her the last view of what I saw where she was parked as the street view ended here, a look into the sun moment from the robot of Google®. I sent her the screen shot and later when she saw it, she said, that was it.

This Is Me Looking Up In The Sky For You Watching Me As I Drove There Where I Watched You
I Couldn’t Hear You Nor Could I See That Image Making Robot In That Sky Up There

I asked her to make a photograph of herself for me there. She did, so I think anyway, as later I would get a series of photographs of her on the beach, each with my name, Jonathan, in their title. I liked this. Too much. If in fact they were made there that day and if they were for me.

After I first met her and was still watching what she makes a short time later from back where I used to live, I saw her tell a story with one of these images of herself (with my name removed from the title) where she used to share. I had made her pictures in secret too that I had never shared before I saw her share what I thought was for only us. Since she shared first this too, so would I from now on. This image of herself has since been removed, along with so much more, but I remember it well. Too well. It spoke of a love not good enough for her, in detail. I did not know if this picture and story were about me even to this day, I thought it safe to assume it was as, well, this image was made for me, wasn’t it? I asked her about it once, to try and understand her better. I was then told to not ever question her or what she makes, she always had a way to not directly answer anything, even when she demanded the directness I gave her. I went back recently to look up the private answer to the private question I asked her directly so long ago now, are you involved or seeing anyone? To not my surprise, I didn’t learn by relooking.

Thy Public Secret Comparisons + Thy Public Bragging Of Secret Misleads = Thy Honor Carved In Public Stone

Over a year later since this beach drive of hers I watched, I told her now that I am in Texas, I hoped to see this place someday, with my own eyes, to go there myself, even if I were to go alone. She told me not to go. She begged me not to go even. She told me this place was “Hers.” That it is this way because of the others she takes there. I didn’t, never did and or no longer meant enough for this place. So for a almost a year now since she begged me this, this same almost year since I last saw her in person, I didn’t go here, no matter how much I wanted to.

Wave Out & Wave In

In this same last year we communicated (too much again over glass given what I have learned now), I have seen her say people don’t own idea’s or things photographed and that she likes to steal what others make to better herself and that she would like it if you steal from her as it makes her go make more things. This I do believe about her. You see, as much as she begged me not to ever go here, she went to all kinds places in her mind and eyes and ways, that were far more special to me than any actual physical place ever could be. For this same last year, each time I saw her do this, regularly, more than I can count regularly, I begged begged begged her to stop stop stop, as it hurt, too much too much too much. I stopped telling stories once for 60 days and the second story back, she did it again. Six months after that, I stopped my site again for a second 60 days. Then she did it again. She never did just stop, in fact, me telling her made her go make more, each time and find another thing that was just something I made for her, that she would now make to then give to another, like only I gave to her. I know she knows this all, as I told her, explained to her, again and again and again, for a year now, directly and privately. Yet she couldn’t or wouldn’t give me what I gave her and from where I sit now so far away, that’s all I see.

A Hole Maybe You Didn’t Dig Here I Found, Without Your Secret Husband Playing In It

I have stopped even looking at anything she does anymore for longer than I ever have after watching for many many many years. I know and remember what was there before we met and what is there and how and secretly why after. The things she makes with her eyes and her brain and her body just no longer mean what they once did after I learned all I do now know.

I didn’t see or feel what I thought I would here.

But finally, I went to this beach. Alone.

I got bitten by too many misquotes.

I hope these bites don’t scar, too.

The Sky Above The Bay This Day I Did Make Star Trails

– – –

The East Beach I Now Know Is Not The East Beach You Did


“Alex Didn’t Find His Dream, His Dream Found Him”


I Am Not What I Once Was, I Miss The Before You Me

Tear Me

Train Me

Touch Me & Torture Me

for
Gabriel

“Knowing what she wants is one thing, but being able to really GIVE IT to her (again) is another altogether.”

My MAPS Spelled Backwards, Or, What The Word Itself Looks Like, From Here, Reflected (Again)

I once, twice, used a sentence of MAPS spelled backwards to communicate here with a woman I loved.
Now, I teach her she showed me a street sign & that became a key to a map, that became a Legend.
She knew I loved maps before she taught me North is not always true. She taught me Fable.

I know she knows as I told her so.
Now, she uses MAPS spelled backwards to show her 2nd ForeverPromise she loves them more than me.
She knows I know, she told me so. She knows I know, she showed me so.
This long ago was the last I ever looked. Yet another map of mine used to find her way to not back to me.
She likes to steal, she quoted others to tell us so.
I never liked knowingly looking like another. It’s even everything I never want.

Around the time of this last look, something else did now begin. There is a place I visit, only on glass.
While there, looking at this glass, behind what I see, someone undesired started talking to me.
A new MAPS spelled backward, only now out loud. So each unknown time she arrives,
I listen and I watch what is given to me, for free, also, against this will of mine.
15 Attacks in 28 Days, Save This Count, It Matters But Not To Me
I Say, I Ask, Nothing and They Only Pretend They See
I Sit, I Watch, I Wait, Till They Leave, As I Do Not

Once Upon A Time, if I looked Like you, I was talking To You, Only You, For You, I can Remember
Frederick taught me anew, what You may think now still a you, is no longer.

from the deep Archive of my Maybe MAPS spelled backwards received maybe in for me, he or to also you:

“It doesn’t look like you have been invited. I hide so you cannot see my cruelty. It’s not a copy if you cannot see it. It’s just for you John. Denisov galloped up to him and looked ecstatically at the spot where he had been but where he no longer was and at that moment considered they themselves happy. You have no idea how sad, sad, about to stick a needle in my eye sort of sad I am. I don’t want anything that will jeopardize my last wish. I am a dying woman. The nature of your business does not necessarily matter. I have no intentions of causing you any Pains. Rise and Shine, Bottom-Up. Simple Predicates. Can you still stand me is the question. I’m pretty bored lately, and would like to meet you for a date, I Wanna Meet. Can you keep it discrete plz? The ratio between registered males and females has been breached. This Mess We Are In. We are living so close to each other. I wanted to send u my photo long ago, but i was afraid that u dont like to see me. Yes, yes, yes. I just came across this mail myself, including the websites, and am going to be very mad at you if you don’t write to us. We are thankfully glorious fools then. Dangerous Kissing Tips. One day I’ll give you dirty dirty. Tonight the best parts of me want to be taken past where the best parts of you are headed. Are you married? I am not the marrying type.”

The Black & White Sky Of Black Saturday, The Color Sky Of Easter Sunday

– – –

MAPS Spelled Backwards I Did Not Desire


Q: Why are you watching? – A: I don’t know what is or was real and I want to.


“Q: What’s it doing? – A: It’s learning.”

WOPR: “Greetings, Professor Falken.”
Professor: “Hello, Joshua.”
WOPR: “Strange game. The only winning move is not to play.”

Computers Teach Me Things

“Learn, goddammit!” | “Dammit, I almost had a seizure with all that flashing.”

Hide Your Breathing, Hide Your Bleeding, See The Shadow Of The Earth On The Moon At Night

Sun

Moon

Perigee Moon | “Supermoon” | That Night After That Day in March

– – –

“What is rather ordinary, people are seeing it as extraordinary. You hate to deflate, but this is the celestial rhythm, the way it runs. But if it gets someone to look at the moon and see something beyond Earth, that’s good.”

– Scientist

“This will be the largest perigee full moon since March 1993, and will appear about 14 percent bigger and 30 percent brighter than when the moon is at the apogee, or farthest point, of its orbit. Tonight’s full moon will be a little short of perfect perigee.”

– Scientist

I walked outside and looked at the sun.

Later, I walked outside and looked at the moon.

One was right where the other one had just been, almost exactly.

Neither looked any closer than they once were.

The scientists gave me nothing in which I can believe.

Loudspeaker Announcement

A Woman Girl I Saw Through Glass At A Chili’s® Wearing A Pink Dress | Spring

A Woman I Found At This Chili’s® Pretending For Me In A Black Dress, A Purple Dress & Without One | Fall

– – –

I was new here. It had been a couple months, but I was still new. It was fall and I was a sophomore. My parents dropped me off outside the school, at the end of the long sidewalk that lead inside, then they drove away. I was early, I get everywhere early. I walked almost all the way up this sidewalk, till I could hear the music coming through the open double doors and see the lights coming through the windows from what was usually the cafeteria. Then I stopped. I thought to myself about how I didn’t know anyone inside, at all. I thought about the woman girl I wanted and how I knew she would likely be here and likely not be alone. I stopped short of going inside, at all. So I turned around and walked back down this same sidewalk almost to the where I had been dropped off, seconds before. I walked over to the edge of the shadow by the one street light that lit this area. I leaned against the fence, where I could still hear some of the music but not quite see the lights. I waited here for my parents to return to pick me up, it would only be a few hours.

No one really saw me. I quietly stood there, watching everyone go by. Everyone was with someone. One with a second, two with two more, many among many. Everyone was trying to be so beautiful and they actually were, each one I saw. I didn’t count.

I didn’t see them get out of the car, they had walked up into the streetlight that lit the beginning of this sidewalk. They were with two others of two. There she was in a dress of pink. They were holding hands and not, walking in front of and then around the others as the conversation and moments lead them forward. I wanted to look away, I didn’t want to remember this. This fact made me stare harder and it seemed to slow down. Just as she took his hand again and approached that area between the edge of dark of fading streetlight and light from the double doors of the usual cafeteria, she looked my way. She had seen me see her.

She let go of his hand and walked over to me, still leaning on that fence. She walked right to me, up so close I could see the black of her pupils in her already just so much not as dark brown eyes, even in this shadow. I had never stood so close to her. It felt good. Regardless. She looked me right in my blue green eyes, she said, “Why are you standing out here all alone, are you waiting for someone?” We had never spoken before.

I said, “Not exactly.” She looked at me, all kinds of puzzled washed over her face. She offered out her hand and told me to come inside. I politely declined and watched them go inside. I did not want to know what it felt like to touch her if she wasn’t there to dance with me, on purpose.

I kept standing there. Eventually, slowly, people one with a second, two with others of two and many among many started coming out of those double doors where the music I could hear was coming from. I watched them and did not count. Then, at some point, I saw my parents car pull up, right on time, on the edge of that streetlight. I walked over, got in the backseat, they drove me home.

She and I never spoke again but we looked at each other, often not too briefly, often across that same cafeteria. Then one day, she was gone. I didn’t know where she went and had no one to ask. A very, very long time went by and I was at one end of the very long hallway that divided our school in two. As I got towards the end of this corridor, I saw a woman out of place, pushing a stroller. I turned and went through the double doors of the stairway just as I saw her not briefly look at me as I now not briefly looked at her, again. Later, in the cafeteria, it was all my table was talking about. A man boy next to me asked who the father was, the woman girl across from me asked me as I stood up walking away, “Don’t you want to know?”

I told her, “No.”

I was new here, again. I had not been in school for some time and still didn’t know anyone outside of this place. It was the end of spring and I was a senior. We had been assigned to write a poem in iambic pentameter. So I went home and found all the words I could that rhymed from my Guns N Roses album. I wrote these single words down apart from those lyrics in a list, counted the syllables, arranged them in another list and constructed my own poem. This poem was about a cheerleader that sat in front of me one aisle of desks over, to my left. I did this in iambic pentameter, as I was told to. The next day, I handed it in and I forgot about it. Then the grades of these poems got announced by the teacher.

Cheerleader was upset with her grade. She asked the teacher if anyone did well, he said, “Yes, there was one A.” She demanded to know who, out loud. The teacher looked at me and nodded questionably. I looked him back and softly nodded. I knew I had an A, before I handed it in. He handed it to her, you see, she sat right in the front of her aisle of desks, just in front of me but one over, to the left, right in front of his desk.

She crinkled my paper flat with her hands and started reading it, out loud, before she read it to herself. I hadn’t named her. She stumbled over the words a few times as she was blushing finding her way through it. I sat there and I liked that. The other students in class were looking around, watching to see if they knew who or could figure who wrote it. I was staring at my desk. I liked that too.

When she was done, she handed it back to the teacher. The teacher stood up, walked over to me, one aisle over and behind her one seat to the left and placed that crinkled paper on my desk. She stared at me and I stared right back at her.

A very short time went by. The woman girl in front me, directly, who was cheerleader’s friend turned around during a break and asked me, “Jonathan, do you have a date to the prom?” I said, ashamed and bashfully, “No.” She looked over to her left, looking at cheerleader who was turned and looking at me, “[Cheerleader] doesn’t have a date to the prom either.” Then the two talked among each other while sort of including me. Cheerleader, after telling a story about her artist boyfriend I thought she had, said, to me, “Are you really not going to go or ask anyone?”

I have no idea what I said after that, but I did not ask her. In fact, it never occurred to me to do so. Years later, standing in a darkroom printing in silence, I thought about that first dance and about that moment talking to cheerleader about prom. When that tray of developer hit the wall, it cracked.

This Was The Day I Learned You Flew, Almost Daily

I Am Sinnerman, The Time Today Between Request And Answer

I have no scale for what has been done, what is still being done, this is beyond all my measure.

03272010+09:26:02+12:58:58+365=

notmywordsfromtheinternet-mygirldon’tlietometellmewheredidyousleeplastnight

+

i’veneverbeenwokenupthatwaybefore

=

sayweagainaboutthatwhat

Για τη γέννηση αυτού του Κριού τον αδελφό μου και για τη γέννηση αυτής της πραγματικής Κριού μου αγάπη,
που σήμερα είναι ένας πατέρας και ο οποίος σήμερα είναι τώρα μια μητέρα.
Παλεύω για τον εαυτό μου ενάντια σε έναν εξωπραγματικό μου.
– – –
21-iii.11

Two Black Wings & One Yellow Oval On My Back

One Saint Day

Love Only Is God Pain Can
Pain Judge Is Me Love

– – –

No Good Deed Goes…. | March 2, 2011 – 11:40am

I made this photograph, standing on the sidewalk, out in the open in the sunlight. I almost didn’t make it, but I liked this story I thought I would never tell. So I took this one and only this one. The mistake I made was that I thought I made it on March 1st, it was really, March 2. The rest I don’t think was a mistake.

I found a typewriter here where I stay. It used to belong to my grandmother’s grandmother if I have the story right, no one really knows. The internet tells me it will soon be 100 years old(ish). I did not want to try to sell it in a hurry and could not keep it. I had once met someone who collects them, I thought they could give it a nice home, I wanted them to have it. The trouble was, I was in a situation where I was forced to keep secrets I did not wish to and never really promise to. Yet, I had been silent and no longer tried to be a friend to someone that openly and publicly called me theirs for anyone to see in a way I cherished and found quite beautiful. They had done this in a way not many others really have – a photograph, of me, they took, that is one of my favorite, flown high for all. They were the one that likes typewriters. I had vanished on them many months ago when I did not want to. All to keep the secrets of another that hasn’t shown me what I have shown them. I was stuck. I just wanted to give someone that likes typewriters a typewriter.

So it was my first errand of many that day. I drove over, parked in front, got out of my car, carried it to the porch, set it down, turned and walked away. I stopped at my car door, turned around and looked at it. This entire moment was just sad for existing. So I took a photograph of it as I stood there. It was sad. It looked like it in my photograph too. Then I got in my car and I drove away.

Since March 2, I have found another one, another typewriter that almost matches yet is only more beautiful, more old and more lonely. I think I will just throw this one away and I do not know if the first one was even received.

I used to live my life without secrets for this very reason. I will tell anyone anything about anything I know. I am proud of this. It’s who I am and why you found me or you wouldn’t see this, be reading this, right now. Nothing good ever came from a secret.

– – –

Pray For Me, Set Your Own Skin On Fire, Believe In A Name, Roll Some Dice & Smoke Up

I have nothing to hide & this is how I have chosen to live my life, for a very long time.

 
April 13, 2010 | 8:44:05 PM | After That Hour
 

I once sorta knew a poet. She was giving a reading she invited everyone on the internet to attend, I saw the post. I told her I was excited to hear her read as I was finally living close enough, a drive to her city was no longer a problem. I told her I saw her invitation and had thought it applied to everyone, even me, as everyone can see the internet. This is when she asked me specifically not to come. She told me my presence specifically would be too much, that I specifically would make her too nervous and she didn’t want me specifically and only me specifically to come hear her read. I was actually flattered by this as much as I was hurt, at first, you see, I thought it meant something about me was special. I was curious and looked up the reading details as I liked it when she read out loud, I had seen a video once. This is when the internet taught me it was actually a reading she was giving with-to-for her ex-current-boyfriend-husband-Idontknowwhat that I had heard over and over again in regards to she and I actually being special, was “Not in the way.” It seems this night, whatever he is or was or is again, he was actually very much in my specific way.

This left a scar.

 
 

 
The Hour I Was Deaf / The Hour You & He Read / April 13, 2010 7:30-8:30 PM
 
33/304 Because You Were 33
 
Hear My Hour Here
 
 

I was staying in one hotel over and over across much time. There was a man, a “Doctor” here that basically lived in this hotel. He spent so much time in the lobby talking to everyone, to you and to me, that my group became uncomfortable and switched hotels. No one likes the creepy lonely lobby guy. No one likes him just that much.

At the next hotel, at the counter, there worked a woman, she was the key keeper and she was very attractive. The night before Valentines Day, I was lonely.  So I approached the counter and I started talking to her. It was 8PM. I was now the new creepy lonely lobby guy and I was no Doctor. I told her I like tell stories. I told her I like to take pictures. Some other guests came by this counter to check in and I talked to them too and I told them stories too. Some listened and some did not. Some let me make a photograph and none I asked did not. I gave the attractive key keeper a book of my stories to read on loan and return to me some other time. I was to be here many nights. She asked me if I was creepy and I said “Yes.” Then she open my book and started flipping through the pages. She pointed to a photograph and looked at me – it was a creepy one. I blushed, she laughed and kept flipping the pages, looking at me all the more sideways, while also smiling and trying not to. Then she told me she would look more later when I was not there and she was not working, she put my book in her bag.

She told me some stories too. One story she told me was that in her car, she had a pink nightie that she had just bought at Wal-Mart® that day but that it wasn’t very fancy. I asked if I could photograph her in it and she just laughed. So I told her for Valentines Day, the next day, I would buy her a new one, a nicer one, but by only slightly, as I would buy it at Target®. Again, she just laughed. We kept talking. It was now almost 2AM. I had been creepy lonely lobby guy for a straight 6 hours.

I stepped off to the side when her shift ended and she talked with the one who kept the keys for the next shift. I knew she had her own room this night in the hotel as it was so late and I didn’t want our talk to end so I was waiting. I saw her walk by me, I saw her not even look at me and I heard her not say a word. Then she was gone up the elevators. I was now in the lobby by myself.

I went to my hotel room, sullen, did the things I do before I sleep and then tried to in all my darkness. Lying there, thinking of the thing I always do, I heard a fast series of knocks on my door. I smiled to myself, jumped up, put my pants and shirt back on and answered my door. The hotel hall was empty. I threw the lock out to keep my door open, chose to walk left in my bare feet and just slowly went down the hall, hoping. Then, without surprise, I saw my key keeper lean out of the last door on the right. She was standing in the doorway. Barefoot, bare legged, wearing her pink Wal-Mart® nightie with a black bra showing and a confident smile. I walked up to her, reached out and grabbed the fabric of her nightie with my left hand, twisting it up into my fist and watching it rise up so I could see the stripes of her panties. I wanted to kiss her, but I did not, I just watched her watch me. We were still in the doorway, it was almost 3AM and that hallway was empty and with neither of us saying a word, it was awfully quiet too.

We were lying on her bed and I saw she had a scar. I asked her the how and the why and then she let me photograph it. Then she showed me another, so I photographed that one too, then another, and another, and another.

I told her I have many scars as well, but most of mine are online or in that book of mine I could see lying on the floor of her hotel room, spilled out of her bag. Then I asked if she had any more I could see. She showed me one she was born with and then one she burned in long ago that is not fading. I reached out, took a hold of her leg and kissed the one she was born with. She smiled, she laughed, then she said it was time for bed. Her in hers, me in mine, back down the hall.

The next day I returned from my tasks. It was now Valentines Day, I had fulfilled my promise. I had her Target®. I walked up to her at the counter and she didn’t even look up. I excitedly said “Hi, I have your Target®.” She said, “I really don’t want to be here today.” I stood there a moment. I tried to keep the conversation going. It didn’t work and she never looked up. So I went to my hotel room, sullen, did the things I do before I sleep and then tried to in all my darkness even though the sun was still up outside my window.

The next day I returned from my tasks and I walked up to her at the counter. She was looking right at me and she said, “I’ve been reading your book, are you going to tell a story about me?” I said, “Probably.” She smiled and said, “Where have you been hiding, you didn’t answer your door last night?” I told her I had been sleeping, but I lied, I had been awake, too much so and I had heard no knock. I asked her when we were going to photograph her in her Target® Valentine gift and she just blushed, “I cannot accept that.”

The next day I returned from my tasks and walked up to her at the counter. It was 9PM. I was creepy lonely lobby guy again and talked with her until 2AM. There was to be no knock on my hotel door this night either.

The next day I returned from my tasks and walked up to her at the counter. She started with the stories this time. She told me of the male friend that visited with her at her home the previous night, after our other long talk, that she drank too much and that this male friend and her would now have awkwardness. I told her that seems to be what happens when that sort of thing happens. I asked her if she had finished my book yet as I was leaving soon and she said it was at her house. She knew this was my last night here and asked if she could buy it from me, I said, “No.” The book was now hers by default, I liked this. It was 9PM.

I left and went to the place of pretend. I saw my woman of wings, naked, upside down on the pole. She saw me see her, for it had been some time and she said, “iliketotellstories.com.” I liked this. Very Much. She knows how I Oh So Wish I Could Fly like she Can and I Cannot.

I was sitting at the bar, alone, watching, sullen. A woman I did not know from pretending before saw me see and came over. Arms outstretched she fell into me with a hug and those arms felt as if they went around me twice. Tall black boots, tiny black bottoms, small pink bra and blond hair. She had a look like you’ve seen her before, but you haven’t, not quite like her. She took my hand and walked me towards the back. She looked at me, her eyes glossed over and all kinds of blue and green even in this red light. She said, pointing to her cheek bone,

“You see this here around this eye, this is where my boyfriend smashed my face, he went to jail for a year because of it.”

I said, “He deserved more.”

She said, “I am the president of the itty-bitty-titty-committee.”

I said, “I like presidents.”

I sat down and she sat down and the music started. She put one leg up in the air and asked me to help with the zipper, from almost the top of her thigh to the almost bottom of her foot, so I helped, as requested. She was almost now naked. She stood up, one boot left on, one on the floor and she then fell back into me, arms wrapped around me twice once again as she let gravity smash us together. She was now facing me, wrapped around me and quiet. I sat there a moment, the song was still going but she nor I was moving. Then I felt her body tremble, shake. I reached up and caressed that blond away from her face and out of my face. She was crying. I asked, “Are you okay?” She leaned her head back and looked at me, her eyes almost all blue now and bloodshot red where they should be white. Tears after tears rolling down her face and making my shirt wet, quite so. She told me she needed to make $___ tonight or she would be evicted and have to live in her car. She asked me if I liked her, if I thought she was pretty and if I wanted her. I told her, “Who wouldn’t?” She asked if I was from Texas as I had big Texas patch on my sleeve. I said, “Yes.”

“Do you want me to come home to Texas with you, because I will.”

I asked her if she even remembered my name, as I had given her my real one and forgotten her fake one.

She then told me if I gave her $___ now for the dance and then $___ later in my hotel, I could do anything I wanted with her, to her. She was now sitting on the floor, the old carpet swallowing her, naked, one boot on and one sprawled out next to her. Sitting indian-style, weeping as she spoke, tears falling onto her chest now instead of my shirt. “So you’re going to give me $___ now right and then I will meet you at your car at 2AM to go back to your hotel, okay.” I hadn’t said anything at all since I asked her for my name. “Then we’ll drive to Texas.” She was telling me a story that sounded familiar but felt all kinds of wrong and very different. I was just sitting there. I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know what to do and each sentence I could have predicted but yet I did nothing and said nothing.

I reached for my wallet, opened it up and gave her the $___ she wanted now. Knowing I shouldn’t be, couldn’t be, shouldn’t be, didn’t want to, didn’t want to, didn’t want to, this cannot be happening. Then it did.

I watched her get dressed, she took my hand and walked me back to the front. She leaned over, kissed my cheek and said, “I am going to go make more money now.”

I still hadn’t said anything since asking her for my name but I think I heard myself laughing, I cannot remember.

I sat down back by the stage but far away and stared at the floor a moment. Then I stood up, walked to the door, I went to my borrowed car and drove back to my hotel.

I had given away more than I had to give. Again.

– – –

I walked into the hotel lobby. It was now 1:30AM. The key keeper, the counter girl, the woman with my book, the one who shared her scars too, who knew I was leaving in a few hours, by happenstance was walking towards the same door I was coming from. I smiled when I saw her just feet from me and was about to say hello when she said walking by me as quickly as she could with a brief, parade like wave,

“So long sucker.”

I didn’t say anything or laugh this time, at least, I don’t think I did. I just went to my hotel room and waited until it was time to go to the airport, back to Texas, back through IAH.

The wetness of the one girls tears I could still feel on my shirt.

True story.

“Think I Got The Message Figured
Another Pilot Down
And Are Their Devils With Halos“

God Loves Me!

This Is My Love Forest And You All Swallow Shallow Cave Of My Ill Heart Are Not Welcome Here

Fly Back To EverEverLand & Do Not Call So Close To Be Sure I See & Get Out Of My UnReturned Known Home

“Do you know,” Peter [Pan] asked, “Why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.”

“You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still remember dreaming?”
Even Tinker Bell Remembers Puck Did Here Give His Face When I Have Stopped Clapping For Her

– – –

As I Am An Honest Puck

I Have Not Deserved This Luck, Me A Liar You Call ?

Once Before This Call + Once Again This Call = Twice Your Fiction Now Grandstand Told

Reflections are not Real and are Seeing All Backwards

They Cannot Speak for Themselves

There Is Nothing Left They Can

3 Things To See After 11:11

So Sayeth All Sorta I

March 16, 2011

As Desired

“Wow, I think I have been waiting my whole life for someone to fuck my face like that.”

I walked into the place called Pitts. It was time for my ritual. Time for the removal of what I did not desire to any longer appear on me as it did. This man, he made it better. He knows what I do about this, he told me so. This man brought me a moment of comfort when I had none. Things are different on the outside, this he told me too but I do not know, not yet. He did not look the color of me but I do believe he may have been.

Seconds later I met a man who I know was not my color. I showed him a hole and he said he could not fix it.

But he knew someone that could.

So I asked him, “Please.” I told the other man, “Thank you.”

A man I know I do not know now 18 years wrote me a letter:

“List of prints I would like to see hanging in front of my face.”

This was a list of four photographs with a portrait of one. Three with no people and Yes, one of that One. Over 6000 photographs here and he wanted one of the two of that One. So I took great pause while still flattered. I told him that I had no intentions of ever selling that One but that given a new circle I now saw and the how and when of this circle, the story of him buying this One would make a lovely story. A circle if you will, For Me, where I did not have one. For him and only him as it has been 18 years.

I told him that I learned from the internet, that photographs of this One, “Modeling” sell for $____ per square inch. So I would sell him this photograph of her “Modeling” for me at that same price. This man knows about modeling, he photographs many of the Top “Models” in America. He told me he saw what I made of her and that made him want to fly and make a film about the One and I. This gave me great pause as well.

So I asked, do you know this One at all, do you have communication with this One at all and what do you see, Why this One and why Me, Now.

He responded,

“Dude what are you talking about?”

And there it was, he did not who the One is. So I gave him two words in an order and told him, search engine.

Some time then passed.

He responded,

“I do not want to buy that print anymore.”

My great pause and my circle were over. He loves his print of my fake(r) flowers.

– – –

True Story, just like all of them.
You see those flowers there though, those are fake. You Know, just in case anyOne still has doubts.

I stepped into the sunlight from the shadow, onto the property of this blessed man.

I Was Trespassing

My father was walking through a door, a woman he did not know was walking through this same door in another direction, they had a moment of awkward and were polite about it. He noticed she was holding an obituary section of the newspaper, so jokingly he asks with cleverness of her obvious alive, “The obituary, you are not in it are you?” She looks at him and says, “No, but my friend is.” Then she started crying.

My father is where I come from.

The Length Of Hair Went All Around The Stadium

The Circle Must Be True As Green + Blue

– – –

It has been 52 weeks since I crossed the line of the perimeter driving and reading a story, simultaneously, on a piece of glass in my hand. A story I had once heard before, only this time different, it was where all could see, certainly me, when all I had heard or seen directly and personally was not for anyone, simultaneously. I would see more like this, in these 365 days, more than I can count, over and over, night after day. I fail myself sometimes and I look, they are still being made. It won’t ever stop no matter the state of how could you. I stopped for 120 days out of these 365. I learned time now means less to me the all the sudden you now count it, just so. So I won’t anymore and all stories now will be just what I want and only what I want, too. This one long ago now was a story about the color green and the color blue. It was about the way these colors can change in one’s eyes depending on the light when one’s eyes are open. So sayeth for one so sayeth for another. It made no mention of the colors when all these sets of eyes are closed. This was the day I arrived.

In this circle of time and of a promise I just found, I saw the aquamarine of one closed forever eye I also just found. This is not my story as it should be, could be, it is the story of what is, of what was likely all along as if I never existed or if existed only for my parts. This is the story of what I may have seen clearly had my eyes not been so closed. I gave more than my absolutely everything.

I saw these eyes once, these other eyes of green + blue. I couldn’t really tell this night, the light wasn’t right, there was no sun at this opposite of noon. So I stood right in front of them, 10, maybe 15 feet away. I faced them, then I waited, looking directly and full of patience, unmissable. I was not subtle. These other eyes were under a white construction helmet, above a loose fitting t-shirt, pants that fit like pajamas and above sockless feet in small little flip flops. These other eyes like to use words like magnificent and extraordinary to describe what is obviously so, but when I looked at them with my eyes, as I had already seen more of this other eyed individual than I should on glass, I didn’t see either of these things in them. They just looked shorter then I had imagined. I kept standing there, patiently waiting. These other eyes of green + blue looked left and looked right, leaning on the bar with their back, one out stretched arm one direction along the rail, the other arm outstretched the other way, those eyes looking each way too. Back and forth, never straight ahead, never at me, right in front of them with my green + blue. These other eyes were waiting, for this was a party meant for pain and other eyes was waiting for the bell of the ball, she was his to have. You see, other eyes likes to watch bell of the ball hurt people in worlds of pretend fairytales, then they go home, having taken only what they want away from others. Other eyes likes seeing me hurt at her hands too. So here I was, by almost happenstance. No more glass between us, no more bell of the ball to hide behind, here I am sir, hurt me, directly. I am patiently waiting…..

Seconds became minutes, too many. So I lost interest and walked away alone. I would receive no hurt, I would receive no direct look, no look straight ahead as I watched and waited for it in my spot of cannot be missed, this sir would not hurt me, look at me, directly or I had the wrong eyes in the dark, it all meant the same now.

It took me these 52 weeks to see, other eyes of green + blue only wants to see me hurt from far away, just like his bell of the ball only loves me from far away.

Now that I was real, now that I was more than words and pictures on glass, now that I was inside this perimeter,
I would not be seen.

This knight of the sky I found with one closed forever eye of a color, it fell for no reason I can see inside two lines that make a perimeter of nothing nor intersect. 52 weeks = 365 days = a promise circle I am not in and I am tired of what has been taken away and I am burnt out on hearing lies and I am exhausted from losing count of what I never should have been shown just how I was and I am depleted from hiding what I never ever promised to and I am crippled from giving away more than I had to give.

I gave you all 5 fingers of my hand before you said, “Too Much.”

I have been given the finger, but not ever offered one. This is heavier than the weight of the world.

I See You See Me As You Listen

You see that scar?

That cuff of broken fur on the incorrect

looking right rear leg of this deer? That is my fault.

Or so I believe it is due to an event I could not have controlled

nor could have predicted. I’ve watched it limp a long time now since then.

It stalks me while I no longer even go looking or desire to.

It will limp forever, just like me.

I hope it hurts.

In Your Wife

The Brothers Who Helped Keep My World Open & The Brothers Who Helped Keep My World Closed

The Last Time My Only Law Judged Me

Did you hear that? That silence.

That was the sound of not my baby screaming.

“I have to do what is right, not what I Want.”

– – –

Air Force Airman 1st Class Corey C. Owens

Texas

I Cannot Fly & I Wish I Could


i like to tell stories | #1-10, 186 pages | See or Touch

– – –

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

I Am Miss Texas

Knights Of Gold

You Look Like Me When I Was You

City Of The Violet Crown 1 & 2 – (12/27/09)

Thus The Us That Now Is – That Tree At Monument Hill – (12/27/09)

City Of There – Fly A Flag

For Ponyboy – 896 Days Before He Weds Her

The Seventh Avenue Express – January 25, 2010 – 11:00:21 PM | January 26, 2010 – 7:33:30 PM

The House Of Saunders

I Taught Myself To See Invisible String

Night Of The Blue Sky

I Share So You Will

FIVE STAR® Notes From A Dark Room – In A Class By Itself

22 Steps Away – Everyday, 4387 Days

Ode For Another Man’s Batgirl

I Drove 15 Hours, Then I Drove 11 Hours, Then I Drove 8 Hours – Redux

April 13, 2010 | 7:30 PM – 8:30 PM | A Texas Tall Tale – An Hour All But Me Were Allowed To Listen

White From So Much Lack Of Sun

Four Cameras & One Shotgun

Afternoon After The Morning After My Birthday, The Day I May Have Died

The Park That Has Two T

Renews Strength, Elasticity and Shine – Message Into Wet Hair. Lather & Rinse Fekkai

The Lightening I Sent You The Minute After I Talked To You Not On My Birthday

I Haunt That Wet Woman Hollering Creek

The 2nd Plague Of Egypt Hollering Of The Frogs

Do You Always Feel The Need

Fiesta Anger Stretch

How I Failed My Grandfather – 19 Sugar Cookies

I Gave A Girl A Cake

The Air Conditioner In My Hotel Room

I Was Taught Cognitive Dissonance – Sour Grapes

471 Days, The Only Screaming I Love

Knights Of Gold – I Cannot Fly

I Broke Your Water

An Officer & A Gentleman

I Am Miss Texas

The Aquamarine Of Crocodile Tears – (12/27/10)

– – –

94 Love Lyric Line Letters

In there, in there, in here this place on you not you where I wanted to place that Hand Of Mine.
Feel your rushing blood.
Tick, tick, tick. Just for me to see. Aim at my Heart.

As predictable as time itself once was taken, away, by only you, again, for my ever.

Coward Of My Touch

The Texas Perimeter Hike

“The Story Of Texas, Its People & The First 3000-Mile Trek Along The Perimeter Of The State”

This man, they call him S.Matt, he likes to trek. I did the photographs the magazine requested of me, of us, S.Matt alone on white. I then asked him to go for a walk with me after I took too much of his time, albeit a shorter walk than usual. He agreed, as his nature is calm and S.Matt has an energy that makes you so as well. We started in his yard and went in a straight line towards the Gulf as I shared stories and he listened. We were there before I could hear more of his and then it was dark. I talk too much.

S.Matt Tells Good Stories

This land of ours, it is his and it is mine in ways and whys unique to us both and this shape is like no other. We talked about it, we touched it’s line by the water this day and wondered how such a simple thing like shape can be so much and inspire so much in so many. I cannot think of one tattoo I have seen in the shape of any other state, yet here in Texas, (and elsewhere) I have lost count. Mark it on your skin, go walk around it, get lost in myth here & try to tell me it won’t change something about who you were before you touched this line that defines it or us.

I don’t think S.Matt finds himself as lost as much as I do here.

for Texas Monthly
– thank you Leslie
– thank you S.Matt

A Name You Know With No “A” At The Front

The Last 30 Seconds Of One Year & The First 90 Seconds Of Another | Please Press Play Or Listen Forever

please press play

A Different Time, Repeated Patterns Of Specifics

Crocodile Tears – The expression comes from an ancient anecdote that crocodiles weep in order to lure their prey, or that they cry for the victims they are eating. The expression’s origin is that crocodile tears cannot be authentic because crocodiles cannot cry; they lack tear ducts. Yet this is a myth: Crocodiles possess lacrimal glands which secrete a proteinaceous fluid, just like in humans.

– – –

Shakespeare Othello Act IV, Scene i:

“O devil, devil!
If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears,
Each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
Out of my sight!”

Again, Shakespeare, Henry VI, part 2, Act III, Scene i:

“…and Gloucester’s show
Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile
With sorrow, snares relenting passengers;”

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You Looking To Your Right, Your Mouth Open With Anticipation

You Looking At Me, Seemingly Softly Lustful

You, Eyes Closed, Mouth Open, Glee

You Looking At Me, Prideful Smile

– – –

119 Minutes Before I Took A Photograph Of My Left Hand Removing Aquamarine From You

Face Down, Purple Gone, Yellow On, Sheets Of White

Your Blue Green (In Sunlight) Eyes Rolling Topsy Turvy, Open Closed

These Secret Treasures® Became Mine

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That’s Me

Eyes Looking Directly At You, Or, Closed So, My Hand To My Face

21 of 55 in 45 days Between Actual Sees, Sent To You, One By One, As Created, Each Time

– – –

I once asked if I could take a photograph of us together, you said of course. I stood behind you, closely, my face in your hair, looking around you back towards my hand, my face close to yours. I raised my arm and held that dead weight of plastic, metal and glass out pointing back at us, as far as my arm would allow me. I moved my finger to press that button. As I was about to, I saw you look down and raise your hand to your face, before you heard the machine make that noise of taken.

So I relaxed my arm under that weight, that is not how I wanted us to look, I did not press. I waited, I shut my eyes and inhaled a breath, smelling your hair. I let it go and raised my arm back out again. I held that dead weight of plastic, metal and glass pointing it back at us as far as my arm would allow me. I looked into the glass, I stared at it, as I noticed you once again look down and put your hand to your face for me in a repeated expression of rethought action for me to see, for my ever, that is what you wanted me to see in you, you couldn’t just be.

That was the last photograph I took of us.

– – –

The last photograph I saw of you, I don’t know if someone else took it or if you took it, but I see that it was not at the end of your out stretched arm, pointing back at yourself, so we cannot know, just as that would only likely tell us, or really not. Maybe it was by someone else, you showing them something too, your hand was on your face in this one as well, but differently. Maybe you took it on a timer, with some chance, but you understand self timers, so chance is unassuming. Was your camera resting on something, a stack of books, a shelf, a tripod, the windowsill over your tub of bath – the hands of a lover or someone that may only appear as so sometimes. Maybe you took it with a long cord attached on one end to the machine and on the other end, attached to your one hiding from us all hand, pressing that button when the expression was right or felt right or was what you wanted us to see. I don’t know, we won’t know, we never can, and that is just how you want it, this is what you are proud of most, no one knowing, any, real, thing.

This Is All I Know Of Mine Known You

Go Forth With True Heart Only (Without Intoxication), All Ye Who Try, Thy Treasure Awaits

29,53.47N 96,52.47W – Touch Above Or Below For This Map Of Bounty

I Do See More, I Will

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nowhereyouwilleverknow & now+youknow

2 January 2011 – 14:38:19

What I Saw Out My Desk Window, Just Now, Again When I Did Not Wish Too

“…but these are the thugs I think of when I honk about you…”


I write too many letters on my phone from places I cannot forget.

Everything I said these days was true, it flowed from me like a breath, a blink, only it took less effort than that.

I Will Miss That Me, This One, May Have Only Been An Idea, I Can No Longer Tell

Is The Fading Of Your Once Forever Always

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– – –

The Eve Of The Other Eve

I do not want to learn to not believe what I see or what I feel, in great detail.

A Repeated Pattern Of Specifics

A discarded flower, a cold bed, the roof of my Escort and me trying to find warmth.

– – –

16 Years Ago – Wood | 11 Years Ago – Clandestine

It was the same dancer from the first time I went here, during the emergency. I was one of the last customers this night, I didn’t want to return to where I was staying. So I just stayed here till my money was gone. She remembered me and each time she walked by me all night she said something to me – wanting to give me another dance. Yet each time till now, she was with another, you see, she is popular.

Now it was my turn, the routine was the same as before. We didn’t talk, she sat on my lap waiting for the next song to start and I stared at her. In the loud quiet we sat there, I remembered what a woman I have known asked me once about these places, “I bet you’re the kind that wants a connection with the girl right?” I cannot remember how I answered her as in my head, all I could think was how could this woman I have known, know me so little when she likely knows more about whatever truths are here in these places than I do.

The song started and the dancer on my lap danced, as she had before, she knows what to do and works very hard, it is why she is popular, well that and she is very pretty, all over and I don’t think she knows it. It was also as it was before, as it wasn’t working. She just looked at me every so often as I stared and then looked back down at herself, trying only harder. As the song was about to end, as it faded, she looked towards my right shoulder, stopped and pulled a hair off of me. It was likely not hers and it surely wasn’t mine. I looked at her, she looked back at me and said, “Hair.” Then she went back to dancing till the song ended. The next song started and nothing changed, when that one ended she had the last of my money. I told her to have a goodnight and she said, “You too, be careful.”

When I got back to where I was staying, I found another hair on me. I took it off, took a photograph of it on white, then black and thought that one hair being taken off me by her was the only moment of genuine all night.

The Buck Rarely Is Seen As The Love Of The Doe May Die If So
So She Hides Him

I stepped outside to empty the garbage. Walking the can to the curb I heard them, that unique sound of those fancy feet dancing on asphalt. I sighed before I even looked for them. I hadn’t seen them in some while and this night, this Wednesday night between two holidays, I didn’t want to. I stepped closer then I usually do, I wanted them to fear me and made what I had to with what I had on me. They let me.

I went inside and tried to forget that I just saw them. Hours later, I left to run an errand and once again, there they were when I didn’t want them, not this day. So I made more. Much later, returning to this place I stay, I saw them all together, waiting for me on my lawn. This had never happen before, not like this. I was not having a party tonight and I did not invite them.

They loved me enough to show up anyway. So I tell myself.

They hunt me, I don’t even go looking anymore.

8 October 2010 | Before I Knew | At Of In IAH | Written (Mostly) On A Tuesday After I Knew

14 May 2010 | Here Before

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I made a portrait of that woman waiting to fly on my left at IAH because she reminded me of a woman, or maybe in some place in my mind or real life – it’s the same actual woman, I made a portrait of 147 days ago that was to my right, also waiting. She was waiting for the red light! to become green light!, a specific time I often photograph people, when they are waiting, sometimes in their cars, sometimes not. I have too many, I’ve shared too many, which means, I wish I had more, from all these many years. Complete strangers to me. I make note of what time and time between these points quite often as well, I find it important. You know this if you’ve seen a story of mine before, if you know me at all or if you are one of the few that have known me better than others with the true sense of the word know. Neither of these likely two different beautiful women do I know or have known. Nor do they know they appeared, disappeared and reappeared for me to cherish. To be shared here, forever in my time, seconds apart or days. This is why time gets noted, this is the only way I can stop it when I cannot otherwise and so fucking desperately want to. It goes too fast, it is running out every damn day as I get closer to dying and I am exhausted by all that feels lost I cannot feel ever again. So I mark and keep this time as best I can because it is futile, because I know this and because I find the attempt itself full of a grace I do not always live with, when I wish I could.

Every second.

Your Unkind Line Was Just That, If You’re Known

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There were once so many little things I once loved to create, I won’t know how to anymore.

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There Is Nothing I Can Do, My Tongue Is Tied

a poem of sorts i once read that had words that read like your words, by an author i overlapped with my tied tongue, so closely, i can almost taste him. i was at a party once where i thought maybe i saw him, it occurred to me, maybe i should walk over and try to taste you:

about me, hyperme, the simulectra pivoted about my face occupying my identity? facial expressions and a dialect of gesture would do more to describe me than words can, but i suppose that this inactual reality which broadens communication while confusing the term communication adequately allows us to meet. how are you? that’s nice. i wouldn’t have listened anyway, so perhaps this resembles truth, somewhat. i am self absorbed, though not into myself, into my imagination, which is not myself, but exists within a body of thought i think to control (failure of language), therefore i am self absorbed but not self important. i watch my thoughts– which are not agrandized– like shadows of whirls in a summer pool. i enjoy these things, and […name of woman…] practices patience daily in my enjoyment of these things. she enjoys a different distraction which brings her into presence. i am absence, at times.

– mein cristof

I Believed In Something That Was Not Real, Too Much, This Is How I Learned Myths Are Real, Not Long Ago

On The Very Day It Could Have Happen

True Story

Before I Knew

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i wrote: “you are lying on your back, drifting to sleep but not quite there yet. it’s late and dark out but there’s a soft glow from the street lights and moonlight playing with the shadows around the room. you are wearing small, black underwear and nothing else. i am lying next to you, my head resting on your tummy, there’s music playing but not in this room, it’s echoing through from another. one of my hands is tangled in your hair and i have left it that way, making a fist with it and gripping it tightly. my other hand is curled around your hips, i have a handful of that marvelous ass and am gently squeezing it one moment and forcefully rubbing it the next. i start softly kissing your tummy as my head rests in your sweat and mine. a breeze comes across your skin and you feel your tummy go cool as the wind makes the wet go cold. you cannot tell the wet from my sweat, the spit from my relentless kisses or my tears…. i am not sad.”

IAH

365 Days Ago I Once Visited A Place I Never Meant To Go Again, This Was Visit Three

Day Of Eve Of | (prelude)

From That Same Side Of That Same Road, Walking In An Ignored Circle, Making 4, Sending 1

I Could Have Written Everything I Could Have Written Nothing
I Could Have Said Everything I Could Have Said Nothing

I Desired An Action When Words & Pictures Are Just Words & Pictures Reflecting In Sunlight Off Glass

If I Cannot Touch It, It Is No Longer Nor Can Be Ever Real

My Missing Is More Than An Idea

– – –

365 Days Like This Ago, I First Unwillingly Farmed & Now My Words Are Being Counted

27-xii.10

15:54:54

Deduc Nostri Eburneum

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You Comforting Me After I Comforted You During Our Only Days Together While You Were Still The Wife Of A Man You Met After Me While I Gripped Your Hand Shielding My Eyes From That Steady Stream Of Light In The Sky During Our Only Days Together A Few Days Before You Met Your Next Husband

One Man You See Mostly On Glass | Dallas, TX

The Hours Before & After I Met Him & I Miss The Lawyer I Lost
14-x.10 & 15-x.10

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My Empty Hand I Wanted To Hide, My Closed Fist Punching A Sunlit Crack

My Empty Hand The Color Of Rain Water, Dry

– – –

I photograph strangers for money.
Most often, men who do things I cannot understand.

– for Maggie

I was there to photograph the planes. I was allowed close, right up next to them, I even touched a few. My favorite one was the yellow one but I didn’t immediately remember why. I think I liked that it was called Miss Texas and had just that painted right there on it. That was enough. Through happenstance, I was then asked,

“Would you like to go up?”

Why, yes, I would, thank you.

I sat in the seat, was told how to work the release buckles, operate the canopy, the radio, the parachute strapped to my body and then this plane started moving. It felt just like I always thought it would. We went up into that sky and did loops, I think we did three.

please press play

I raced home later this day to look at the photographs, my father came over to look too and asked what kind of plane it was. I told him it was a T-6 Texan. I could hear the excitement in his voice,

“Like the one from that day in Florida?”

You see, in July, we had watched a yellow T-6 Texan fly by us then vanish into the sky. Moments later, we saw the crowds on the beach and heard a horrible story of no survivors. It had done a loop and then another and then went straight down into that emerald water before its third. The story we heard that day was that a bride was watching her father pilot this plane from our very beach when this happen, the day before her wedding.

You see, I had just been in a yellow T-6 Texan and I had just done three loops and I had forgotten.

I had no wedding scheduled.

The Sound Of A Penguin Singing To Me | please press play or keep it forever

“When I think about you I feel gray.”

I had been surrounded by secret wings all week and now I was standing in a Walgreens. I was in there by myself but waiting on another. I hadn’t needed anything but was along for the errand when I heard it. I turned and looked down across the aisle and there by herself was a beautiful older woman with platinum hair, blue eyes and dressed all in red with a short skirt pulled taught over the tan of her skin. She saw me looking and said,

“I don’t know how to make it stop.”

I walked over towards her and replied,

“I don’t want it to stop.”

Embarrassed by the singing penguin, she walked away and I stared at her why she did. Then when no one was looking, I hit record, I pressed its foot and I tried to not cry.

This same day I had watched a puppy fly. I photographed it all in gray. Later this same day, I watched a bird fly. I photographed it all in gray too. Then even later, in the darkness, I met a woman with wings inked onto her forever. I paid her to let me touch them and I then paid her to let me photograph them, in all their colors.

You See, I Wish I Could Fly Too, Just Like That Black & White Singing Penguin Whose Wings Don’t Work

ANYThing wiLL HELp, EVEN PrAyerS

Two Men Listening Or Talking

A Man & A Woman Sharing Listening

– – –

11 Minutes 35 Seconds of 12 December 2010

I once heard really important words spoken directly to my face. I once heard really important different words spoken to me through a piece of glass to my ear. Both times it seems I made the mistake of believing what the words I heard both ways actually meant. When I read this woman’s sign, this woman with a heart shaped necklace, I thought it meant anything will help, even prayers. I could not possibly know any other thing than this.

So to be clear, for myself, this night one day later, as I need it: ANYThing wiLL HELp, EVEN PrAyerS.

I like to give girls hickeys although I can only recall two tonight. After this one, 12 hours after, which I had produced in jest, my mouth starting bleeding. It did not stop for another 12 hours. I did not know what this meant, but found it more than a happenstance. I knew I had done her wrong, but it wasn’t the hickey.

please press play

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the name Sid goes back in my family to at least 1813

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an Officer and a Gentleman | room 122 | no smoking | ⣰⠁⠃⠃

28 photographs/54 pages – for when you have no where else to go

an Officer and a Gentleman – 124 minutes

158 Days Ago I Met A Man Who Was Heavier Than He Now Is, He Lost 158 Pounds

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158 Pounds Is The Weight Of This Man I Photographed Who Photographed Him

4 Of The 6 Photographs I Made Of This 158 Pound Man Across Those 158 Days

17-vi.10 | 27-viii.10 | 8-xi.10 | 21-xi.10

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City Of Violet

– thank you Em S

Remember Me, Love Me

seven

When I Was 22 Years

At night I would keep the light on for company while I tried to sleep. When the quiet would come, so would the truth in the hearts of the whores, the pimps, the druggies and the insane that were my company in shame. It was here that I experienced the most beautiful words ever spoken. At 4am on what I believe was a Thursday, her words “I fucking hate you!” pierced the silence with such elegance that even the 40-50 dead roaches on my floor awakened just to listen. The music of that voice fell down into my room through the walls and continued until her voice simply left her. I cannot remember all that was said, only that it left me rolling in my tears until dawn because I was not the recipient of that love she gave.

CivicCenterHotel#238Spring199622YearsSanFranciscoAloneICannotTouchYou

42rolls120mm15rolls220mm62rolls35mmICannotTouchYouBloodMeICannotTouchYou

Alone7polaroidsofmineand1polaroidnotmine6stripcards1metalpinfromthedayIfirstsawPeter

i like to tell stories | nine | 20 pages

nine
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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Op Jou Rook Ek Kan Nie Asem Haal Ek Nou Verstik

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05-xi.10 | 25-xi.10 | 26-xi.10

On May 15, all the flags around town were at half-mast. I did not know why and I did not photograph any. From 11:59pm – 12:01am the next day, May 16, I was in the drive-thru at a McDonald’s®, procrastinating sleep, listening to a man who THINK GOD. I only made one photograph on May 16 that was not of me or my food. It was of one dog in the road on my way to become fourth of eleven in a blue goose.

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Listen Forever

One Billboard One Bird One Man One Plane

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November 22-23, 2010

Red Door, California 2009 | Red Door, Wyoming 1997

Two Letters I Did Receive, One Followed By Another, Years & Years Apart, Years Ago

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I had no business at this wedding, I had invited myself. I didn’t know anyone very well, but the darkroom was down and I was lonely. I caught the garter, I wanted to keep it. I hadn’t known the tradition in that moment. I knelt down and handed my Leica® to the groom. I was nervous, she was pretty and had nice legs. Only looking at the photograph now do I see how far I could have gone up her leg. I would have liked to. Like I said, I thought she was pretty and had nice legs. I imagine it would have felt nice too. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a little blond girl looking at me strangely and at this same moment, I looked into the woman’s eyes I was knelt before, she was just looking back at me, softly smiling. It is the only garter I have ever caught or put on a woman.

The little blond girl was her daughter, or was, as I understood it. This is why I stopped just above her knee.

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triumph of the swan

do it yourself doctors advanced australopithecus robustus red flannel sex in fifty six authorized abridgment early man myths tales more mystic shit mutt & jeff triumphant arch a very loud bass lightly colored lime green two by fours, four by fours suburban single houses for rent an organ, a calliope, raunchy carnival music surrounded by people all of whom are standing, staring. candy corn colored leaves straining to reach the ground held obstinately above by branches who are unwilling to lose their hold on spring. a photo-researcher fermat’s theorem le collezori giorgio armani innovation luggage a rothko a kodak rothko paloma picas for men an economy car fireplace fuel beard of grain electric catfish a leaning tower only not in pisa, a great unknown leaning tower overshadowed by pisa, a gratefully unknown leaning tower overshadowed by pisa. a red heart sent by juno to kill orion, leda nowhere in sight.

– – –

what have i promised
and not carried through?
what have you offered
that i have refused?
your words:
shadows on my soul.
your words:
devour my heart.
your words:
confuse my mind.
what have i done?
what have i done?

you say you could
never be
just my friend;
what does… friend… mean to you?
you say you
can’t say
love… to me;
what do… i… mean to you?

oh, lover, what can… i… give
to you?
here, friend, take all my love
for you.

you hurt me, too much… friend;
a cruel word and… i… am
bleeding… friend…
please, stop.

– – –

Two Blue Pages, One Right & One Left

Two Women In White & Two Spots Of Yellow

November 2, 2010

November 23, 2010

– – –

Listen Forever

– For the birth of Marie Wildelski.
Wiegand, her mother,
Mumme, her mother’s mother
& Ruth, her daughter.
On this day of 24 November 2010
a story by Denise,
daughter of Saleh
on the day of 12 September 2009.

A Bird & A Tiger Walked Into A Bar On One Woman

At The Beginning Of This, The Ninth Day Of November Two Thousand Ten, She Did Make Them Growl

Listen

– – –

While I Was Waiting 5 More Minutes At 11:38, I Was Told There Became A New June at 09:41

Hi, How Are You. He Sings To Me:

“Now The Fires That Burn Are More Than What She Started
And Now As The Story Goes Another Day Is Dying”

Mr. Johnston

– – –

“Death Can Take You For A Ride Like A Bird That’s Falling”

Vedrò Con Mio Diletto
L’Alma Dell’Alma Mia

Il Core Del Mio Cor Pien Di Contento.
E Se Dal Caro Oggetto

Lungi Convien Che Sia
Sospirerò Penando Ogni Momento

21 Novembre 2010

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I was told, “We were in a really big part of the ocean… you were there.”

il Prete Rosso

– thank you E

20 De Noviembre 2010

Sólo hay un tipo de hombre que pueda confiar, que es un hombre muerto, o un gringo como yo.

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Sólo Hice Dos Fotos De Hoy

– – –

I was told, “I think of you in TX when I hear this song.”

19 18 17 November 2010

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You Look Like Me When I Was You Before I Became Me

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5 November 2010 | Sixty JROTC Beside Me In Awe

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12:27:08 – 14:39:40

Your Camera Makes Me Want To Do Something Not Right

She Asked Me To Be Her Friend When I Was No Longer Special

– – –

I told my friend a story of some recent events.

My friend, he said, “You’re self-destructive.”

I said, “Yeah, but I am relatively healthy about it.”

My friend, he said, not laughing, “No, you’re not.”

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Charm

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Three Days In November

The Blessed One Next Door Says They Are Unwelcome

I Pretend They Are My Army

Saturday 13 November 2010 | Nothing To Defend And Nowhere To Invade

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17:46:24 | 17:44:59 | 17:55:53 | 17:55:20

I Put The Five Fingers Of My Hand In Your Water & Then I Broke The Surface As Hard As I Could

My Hand Print, Evaporating

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November 7, 2010 & November 8, 2010

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On The Television I Turned On For Just 22 Seconds, There Was A Yellow Plane

Please Press Play

– – –

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– – –

Twenty-Four Hours Of Yellow In The Violet City

– thank you E

Please Press Play

I Cannot Fly, But They Can

The U.S. ARMY Golden Knights Parachute Team

– – –

I was given a seat here without knowing to ask for it. I was invited and I accepted. I was strapped to the seat by them, my cameras were strapped to the plane by them and they let me ask them what it was like to fly. Each one, one by one, they let me see them start flying and then they disappeared.

There were bits of yellow all over the sky today. This is Texas.

November 6, 2010

This is what I look like during a rapid, thousands and thousands of feet corkscrew descent trying to keep my ears popping before the eardrums break and giving a thumbs up to the pilot in front of thousands and thousands of air show spectators that cannot see me. I didn’t want the pain in my ears to stop the show. I was told it is best I don’t look out the windshield of the plane. I would see nothing but the ground racing towards us. I looked and it was beautiful.

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A long time before we lifted off, I was strapped in and I was not allowed up again, even when I could see what was to be. My cameras were strapped in and I was not allowed lens or memory card changes. Across from me were two other photographers and on my right, between me and the door was another. To my right was one open door and across from me also to the right was another, these doors remained open before and during flight. On the ground it was warm but up there in that sky, it was cold, really cold. In my left hand I made moving images and sound blindly while at the same time I made still images almost blindly around another and out that door, that, was, just, right, there. Out each open door I only had that brief moment to see Knights fly and I did all I could.

Twenty-four years ago I wanted to be a Knight, a Golden Knight and an injury kept me out of the military, it was not to be for me. Today, I was the closest I could ever really be. It was all I could be and when I tried to keep my ears from imploding today, my face looked like it did twenty-four years ago.

The aisle was narrow and each Knight had to pass me to fly. I made a portrait of a Knight in the door, I looked down to check it. While looking down I felt a hard hit on my foot. I panicked, I thought I had tripped a Knight, in this plane, with those open doors, right there so damn high up in the sky. I looked up and he was looking right at me, he had hit my foot on purpose. I looked him in the eye and then strained to hear him over the propellers as he pointed down towards the ground at an orange and white painted roof,

“Hey, you want to get some WHATABURGER®?”

I told him, “Yes, right after you!”

He just smiled.

Later, on my drive home, after the plane took me down, I went to WHATABURGER®. I don’t know where he ate.

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Man

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Woman

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There Is The Man I Want To Be & There Is The Man That I Am

The Source Of My Father, In Yellow

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She Is The Only Woman I Know That Asks Me To Photograph Her

Yellow, Yellow, Yellow

A Broken Wing

October 6, 2010

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There were more wings than I could count in this, the place I found these. It is the most secret place I have ever been and these were the only wings I could touch. These wings had been grown, they had not been made by one’s hands like all those others in this secret place. They found me and I touched them, before I knew.

My Father & His Shadow On His Birthday | An Unexpected State & Time

October 6, 2010

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My Mother Kissing Me Farewell With Wings On Her Glasses

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Hillsboro, TX | October 14, 2010

– thank you M

The Only Screaming I Love | Please Press Play

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On July 9, 2009 – I was surprised by the planes screaming by in the sky. Very specific planes. I stood in the doorway of a hotel balcony and watched as I heard her laugh in the shower lost in our conversation as those specific planes screamed back and forth. We had just met.

On October 20, 2010 & October 22, 2010 – I was surprised by the screams of she and I back and forth as those same very specific planes screamed by in the sky. I had not seen these very specific planes since that day 471 days ago and from this time forward, everything is too late to correct. No screaming of any of ours or in the sky can change anything. It was too late. Of all days, of all happenstance of places, how could this be?

A man approached me. He was larger than I am in every way and the uniform had a presence to it that was beside that of the man actually wearing it. I had made one promise to someone to not do one thing here, on this side of that fence. Do not make things here. All I could think of as I handed the uniform what I had just made was, how could I?

When I looked up in the sky and saw what I did, I had just pressed that button. It was the only thing that felt right today on a day where what I wanted and what felt right for me, was of no matter, in the biggest way there ever could be. How do I explain that to this uniform? A part of me will now be forever on the wrong side of this fence.

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