It’s a Mirror
Now what? I’ve come far, and I feel myself slipping back into the imagination of another. Watching yourself being watched, perceived from a man’s point of view. I’d think it’s a good view but that’s not where art must come from. Independence is gorgeous, not passing through anything but acting for yourself only. And I miss that something else. Is there a common ground?
When I’ve met people before it’s magnetic, I know at once. I’d almost forgotten how it feels to be in love, but I’ve been remembering. I can smell it on the breeze and I follow it, but it only leads me back to myself. When you grow up and change, you end up on top of a mountain. My experiences are not unique and yet I feel like a special case. I’ve said before that I have too rare a combination of characteristics, and with wanting someone who is similar to me, who knows. I could blame it on a lot of things.
I had an epic winding dream about him last night, the kind that lingers in the space between asleep and awake and you keep yourself in a dream state to continue it. It was a muddled mix of both of our cities and love and pain, ending in a similarly real way. Something went wrong, in the case of the dream I committed a mysterious mishandling of finances and left to drink tequila soda (which I have never ordered) alone at an open air bar made of jewels and stucco. He texted me to say he would be going. I let my imagination continue the track so I could see his goodbye.
When you’re awake and dreaming it’s a run through of what you choose to project, your expectations and worries that you set out for yourself to witness. When it came to a close I opened my eyes and I’m back in my room with warm morning light slipping through pink curtains, drawing lines on the floor. When I turn on my phone I see that he’s texted me in the middle of the night, about wanting to be there holding each other. It’s a mixed up muddled mess, it’s what I asked for and it isn’t. Experience is a thing you can’t regret. I reread some more of my old notebooks this morning, found inspiration that I will carry into my creative plans for the coming days. It’s all the same, it’s twisting around itself and poking through, it’s a mirror.