The Incredible Mangoes

24 may 09
air is circling me from the back door as it enters bringing scent from the sudden thunder and the two minute rain and the warmth of the sun. it leaves through the front door... smoke from burning incense traveling before my eyes making a perfect circle. in the living room an angry fly is banging its head against a corner of the ceiling. De tout ton coeur - Anouar Brahem in his darkest point of tune. happy duo at the kitchen table. playing games, laughing loudly.
the heaviness of this process is unsettling, but i cannot help laughing with them from across the house at their stupid stoned jokes.

wind chimes, chirping birds add to the soundtrack of this trippy prolonged moment. i smell opium incense and leaves and dust. how can so many beautiful little things be moving together to make such mellow intense sadness.

three hours later; the battle of yellow versus grey streaming through the windows is ridiculous. thick storm clouds finally win over the sun. it is pouring heavy droplets of rain on our porch now. this is so fucking surreal where am i.
Rue du départ, Anouar Brahem.

Le pas du chat noir, we are back at the top. sharabi ankhen, it is 3.12 am now. she came to me with fragrance in her hair and tied upon my right wrist a gift. beaded lapis lazuli. holy fuck i thought../.. what is this mockery of everything that has meant anything to me.

when my number one stole a giant blue ball of afghani lapis lazuli from a vendor in islamabad, she gifted it to me on one of our anniversaries... saying i was the blue to her deepest purple, and thus the lapis lazuli blue. she tied the knot around my right wrist and asked me if it was too tight. shit what the fuck, i did not welcome it but this tragic emotion too, is in my space this night.

why is there still more wine in my cup and this one artist still playing, stirring all kinds of havoc in me all day. all day and we even tried to play other things. the fly from the afternoon got caught in a spiderweb in the window nook. it buzzed in pain, and we moved from the love seat to the kitchen. I could not bear the noise of it, and she could not bear the distraction of her interest.

the tensions in the chords are too much. and much to much is their expression of sound. i met two women tonight at the club, i will obviously not call the blonde one tomorrow but why.

no answer from this drunk dialing. doggie told me today she might not come back in the fall. summer and parents treating her badly, semester off might be the way. jigger i will die. im telling you. look at me already.

my mother on the phone is calling me melodramatic, and this is exactly the lecture i need.
when i close my eyes they burn and ask to be shut just a few minutes longer.

-
birdie