ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

saying goodbye is a lot more complicated than i'd anticipated.

the past week has been a whirlwind of arranging last dinners, last coffees, last dances, last drinking nights, and other engagements. mostly because i put it off to the very last minute. i think i was in denial of having to leave the comfort and safety of what i know and what i was just beginning to appreciate and enjoy.

but also, i have a terrible terrible memory problem. getting together with friends involves a whole lot of "oh yeeaaah" and "when did that happen?" and "what?! really?!?" and blank empty looks. and i realize that its not because i'm brain dead, but because i've an overdeveloped memory blocking mechanism. the less you remember, the less it can hurt you.

it makes you feel empty, because you don't absorb life. it slides off your feathers and back into the ether. but if i wasn't able to do this, i would probably have killed myself a long time ago.

the thing about now is that i actually want to remember these moments, these wonderful people i've had the privilege to get to know, these good-byes. for once, good things were happening to me and, for once, i loved life. i wanted these moments to live on in me, but its like a curse. its like that movie 50 First Dates with Drew Barrymore.

anyway, i had a point, but i also have a no-joke hangover, so...another time.

looking for housing. preferably, a home.

there's this weird state of disconnect from everyone, everything. i hate the thought of living in a souless, mindless place, and unfortunately that is the impression that i get of the inland empire. but there's no thing nor body keeping me here in the bay. i wander around like a sheet with no feet.

the bay area. the land is me, and i am it, the summer fog that rolls through the gates, the evening sun that flows through the trees. what spills through my veins are cracked pavements and tibetian prayer bells, outraged flyers posted up on telephone poles. i am bleeding hearts and organic gerbera daisies. my life is the rattling bass and the piercing siren.

san gabriel valley is suffocatingly hot, and paved solid with shimmering malls, and outlet malls, and auto malls, and specialty malls, and asian malls. we drove along a highway (57?) where the road overlooked a dam into the basin of a reservoir, and it was lush and green and full of tall brush, a stark contrast to the dry brown hills surrounding. it was almost magical enough to make you forget that the presence of growing things meant there was no more water left inside.

when i told them about my accident, he said, "one day, you'll back on this and laugh." i was so shocked i could only laugh, but i knew what he said was true. one day i know i will look back on this time of my life and only remember the good things. i will have left behind the bruises and sadness, the dark nights, the people who turned their backs or stabbed my own and the people who didn't stick around. hopefully i will remember the innocent promises, the laughs that were shared, and the communities that created me.

i don't want it to be so, but here it is. it is time to forget, and time to move on, and time to rediscover what it means to be.

it's official. i done checked out. i can barely function at the office right now, can barely do my own job. my brain has flown the coop. kaput.

sweet baby jesus, please help me at least maintain an illusion of competency for just two more weeks. thanks.