| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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there's been good things happening lately, mostly highlighted by tbone's visit. but the world feels strange. maybe it's october. last week about friends i knew in highschool. i hadn't thought of either of these people (one in each dream for two nights) forever. one of whom hass been living in arizona last i heard. but then, when tbone was here we were taking a walk and i saw him. talking with another old highschool friend (whom i haven't run into since july) confirmed that it was. a little strange. so i've been having vivid dreams about men i know ever night. normally i don't remember my dreams and normally the cast, if any, is vague. that's the first strange thing. i've been working so much and sleeping so little, i have more free time than usual but can't even sit downand watch the movies i've rented. it's kinda weird. a black hole for time. my housemate has been in south carolina all week because his grandfather died. another friend has had a stroke, and her brain has swelled and she's in a coma and if she ever wakes up she won't be herself. a bunch of us were sitting with her boyfriend all last night and it's just awful to think about. there won't be any news until saturday and her familymay pull the plug. she can't even breathe on her own. it's so strange, i was talking to her two days before and she was fine, we were at a social and she had set up a fortune-telling table and everything pertained to bicycles. i know you can't predict things like strokes but she's young! she's got a good life andpeople who care and all of a sudden it's bam. no accident, just her brain shutting down upon itself. everything elsei have to say sounds completely whiny after that. who cares about bike lights and cat urine and photoshoots and messes and everything else that's my stupid stupid life because it's all so trivial and holy shit fuck damn . i want to live in a yurt with no one for miles. not even a cat. or books or anything. no i don't but isolation can't make life anymore painful than it is, can it? don't know ow. shit. poor debbie. |
Live your life, and with every little thing know, "here I am" and "I'm doing this." And don't forget "how can I help?" It'll all be OK. |
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i'm having very vivid dreams of late, also. and a strong feeling that we are on the verge. toes splayed like fingers over the cliff edge. |
Another was about staying in a college dorm room in the country with an overweight geeky guy who was vaguely familiar. Dunno. I think I'm just picking up static. |
she's gone. she was a bicyclist, loved portland and was only 32. i miss you debi. i love you. |
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about a neo-nazi klan rally taking place outside my house so I decided to go someplace to study and driving around in my car, I couldn't avoid the rally, every turn there were swastika signs and white supremacist posters. A stroke at 32, that's scary. Be well, Lapis. |
Last night, it was vivid in more carnal ways, and there was a direct reson for that. But so vivid, seemingly the minute I close my eyes. pez, im sorry for the grief. relish if you can, in the fact that its real, and genuine and that its making you stronger, in one way or another. sounds very banal, but its true. celebrate your friend if you can. throw a party for her...im betting she'd want that. |
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everyone else whom i've known who died had their time or just went like that. standing around wating for the vital moment is just so exhausting and terrible and you know it's gonna be worse when it actuallyhappens. wednesday she was telling fortunes at a shift (local bike fun group) meet & greet... she made bike tarot cards and bike fortunes and didn't have a crystal ball so she had one made of chain rings with a purple lightbulb inside. it was really cool and magical and we all appriciated her ingenuity. friday she had her stroke while riding the bus. she was rushed to ohsu where they performed surgery to try and remove the clot (cutting into her skull) and when that didn't work they gave her chemicals which made her brain swell. on sunday i found out. i came home from board games when m (housemate) called and told me what happened. i was really sleepy and couldn't really comprehend the issue at all. i thought they'd taken her to tacoma (?). monday after work we heard she had approximately five days left and went to hang out with chops (her boyfriend of two years). he hasn't been sleeping or eating. just sitting on a front porch in his socks, chain smoking and drinking whiskey. there was a bunch of us around, keeping him company and talking. later on some of us made dinner but he wouldn't eat anything. he fell asleep out there and three of the guys carried him inside and laid himon the couch and a lotof people slept on the floor all around him. yesterday they told everyone that it was the day, no oint in waiting so we waited at the hospital allday waiting. i got to see her, all hooked up to machines. it was really quiet and eerie. there was a monitor with green lines and all you heard (from the machines) was the respirator. i almost couldn't recognize her without her glasses but she had the same nailpolish she had the other day (a week ago now). it really hit home at that moment asi signed her book and none of us are going to see her again. there were these weird steps outside specifically for people to sit and we took them over, a crowd of bicyclists smoking drinking (on the sly of course) paperfolding. around five we went back in and waited inside. one guy had his laptop and found pictures and created a slide show. then chops went in to see her (he did eat some salami) and we waited outside the unit. it was this long corridor with scissor doors and you had to call the nurses to be let in. and the doors opened and we see chops and gretchen (debi'sbest friend) leaning against each other and they both looked tireder than anyone i've seen my entire life. they both collapsed in the hallway outside and we moved them to a small alcove and this really nice nurse brought tissues blankets pillow and made sure we made chops sit up and drink water. we rubbed his shoulders and back and made a little circle around him on the floor. afterwards we went to a house and talked and drank and talked. chamomile tea and glass-bottle beer. then home. i slept at 3am. last night there were no dreams. maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was the day, maybe it was because she's gone. i don't know. there's a service on friday and there'll be a ride the week later. there may be parties and some of us are thinking about starting a knitting and crafting group. * * * we've been talking about symbols and language and history a lot, (particularly this fellow named dan and me, we're having coffee this afternoon) and swastikas have been mentioned a lot. it's horrible that an ancient ancient symbol for power and life has been twisted and given a new dark meaning that almost noone can tolerate. it's supposed to sit square and represent the sun, dammit. * * * people in meatworld are starting to call me pez again, of their own accord. i like it. |
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not to turn this about my situation, but rather to relate...my extreme sadness over the last 6 months, has, in part, inspired a rather emotionally and intellectually rich outlook in my life. extreme tragedy and sadness can be just as beautiful as extreme pleasure and happiness. |
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i'm glad that this is happening this part of october when it's still warm but there's this period of change for the rainy season and the dark. soon it will be time to bundle up and take long walks in the rain, listening to tom waits, black heart procession, ween's "if you could save yourself", any beautiful beautiful sound of glass hearts shattering on hardwood and asphalt music. not to forget all that lovely orchestral stuff in minor key. i should start teaching myself some pianosongs for winter. i want to begin writing again. it's been about four years since i quit and just to have some secret words hidden away to amaze and shock people with. i want to take pictures. i want to dance, talk, cook and sing at the top of my lungs so sad. last night, on the way back into town from the hospital (way up high in the hills to the southwest) we rode, six of us on bikes speeding down in the dark. sara and i sang, we started out collaberatively call-and-response scat singing and she move on to be-bop and i opera. or pseudo-opera rather, i don't actually know opera but therewas a lot of holding individual notes inbetween hitting bumps. please=ure and happiness are very well and good, but sometimes i thinki'm happiest (or at least placed, placated?) when there's that small twinge. at least. happiness is wonderful but as a human being complicated emotions make us feel more alive. |
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this isn'tyours for the taking. (you punctuationinsteadofspacesnightmaresciencedrunk) caffeine is therapy company is therapy cycling is therapy. i bought apples and a lavender candle and will light it tonight after the day's done. debi liked lavender. |
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I'm thinking of you :) |
she will be buried in a catholic cemetary (at the top of skyline in the west hills) in a cardboard coffin and won't be embalmed. her mother is bringing pens so we can leave messages on it for her. a bunch of us will be riding the last three miles to the top on our bikes, and more will be bringing their bikes up for a processional through the cemetary on our bikes. afterwards we're going to bomb back down. her obituary was printed in the oregonian today. it was awful. kelly (a coworker) found it. it said that she was survived by her husband (whom she's been separated from for the last two and a half years) and made no mention of her love of bicycling or chops (her boyfriend of two years). it didn't sound like anyone i knew at all. |
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i'm sorry for your loss. Bill Hicks went at 32 as well. I myself am 32. You don't think of being cut short at that age, and then it hits you sometimes. I tell you, it really makes you rethink your priorites at times. It sounds like you are doing all the right things you need to do to handle your greif. Good luck. |
i tried writing on saturday night, after the rides, the funeral and the wake but got halfway through and realized i was summerizing. la. yesterday was the memorial ride and that was a good time. debi's bike was detailed and put on chop's trailer and covered with flowers and there were flags and we corked intersections and rang our bells. we stopped at parks, bridges, bike shops, coffee shops and neighborhood memorials for bicyclists and cob constructions (there is a group in town called city repair which likes to build things that revitalize intersections and brings neighborhoods together... the most well known of these intersections is called sunnyside piazza and the whole thing is painted to look like a gigantic sunflower from curb to curb.). when it started to rain we got some food and went to hang out at katrina's, where we've been all week. it turned into two hours of bad bad jokes. later on i went to dan's ice cream social slash housewarming slash birthday party. it's this really neat place that's a combination of apartments and intentional community. there was a fire outside in a wheelbarrow. i brought my flute with me but never really felt the urge to get it out. not the time, i guess. he got an apple peeler which had to be put into use immediately and two people had him throwing apple bits so they could catch them in their mouths at the same time. it was pretty fun. dan and i have been kissing. and i talk about him a lot. it helps to have other things to think about. |