.:wanderlustmedia+dot+org:.

lunes 30- traigo de todo…wild uncertainties weekend, no news, no reply…

corner to corner- moneda a moneda- coin to coin- d’un coin a l’autre-

city of six-lane blindered highway parallel lives… late night/early morn…blahh…

lunes 23…

hmmm…made it into th ocean two-three minutes late…a little tired…

three-thirty…nighty-night…

domingo 22…

nuts. is there a source to this useless brilliance, every other light, any shining gleam that reaches our eyes? is this th feastday of chango, like zeus in th divine gerund, dios, patron

of light in motion and th thunder that underlines & drives its power home? why then

th ocean cleansing? why midnight? why backwards? solstice? midsummer? dialectical materialism as opposed to what? let’s run.

…wrong. again. here still, not still, rehearsing conversations i may never have a chance of performing, talking to myself, or to god, as you please.

viernes 20/sabado 21

strange…did run on monday after all…gotta zzzzz…bis morgen…?

lunes 16.

bloomsday up’n'downs. bit of a coffee excess but quite orageuse so that i doubt i will run…

gotta use th mornings here, afternoons seem to be predictably wet…dublin a year from now? march visit to case it out, meet th joyce society? should finish th ulysses, really!!

viernes 13!

cerdanya again. no sleep on thursday- well, maybe a couple hours. nodding out on th train across dead-serious cute chubby catalana goth nursing her new ankle tattoo…got off en ripoll. candida drowsiness & drying ringworm on my forearm? thought i’d radically cut down on coffee, but craving’s up…run at six?

buy some more cheese & th ‘roc de majorque’? oh, not elegible for interrail: six month official residence in EUnion to qualify. a flexipass limited to spain, maybe. eight or nine trips during a two-month span? madrid? valencia? pamplona? start on deciphering my handwritten fragments of th last couple months…

martes 10, 0448h-

blahhh…moving again- to another room if one turns out to be available? to a month on an interrail ticket? tentatively stopping back for for a few days around la vispera de san juan? madrid? pamplona? huesca? valencia? cerdanya again? dublin???

viernes 6, 1240h:
too much sugar in th pineapple juice, too much butter in th croissants, too much coffee

first thing in my morning…change th program! remember how you shifted gears in germany in ‘94 turning coffee down & having mint tea in th morn…? well- do it again!!

se fundio la unica bombilla que tenia enroscada…

hmmm- is my throat thing allergic? i wake up ok- except for th puffy eyes, even this morn after only having two zuritos of wine- & then after th usual hotel flour-sugar-butter-caffeine breakfast, my chest tightens up. su caso, senyor fiscal…give up on bkfast? for at least a couple of days? just poleo menta & one croissant?? arrrrrrghh…
(1134h…) en la posada del fracaso…

three morning pages, back in ‘96 throughout serious emotional weather…

cocooning on th hoof?? -on wings wings wings to soar above, ascend?

(from a distance…everything’s hunky dory- down here on th ground, it’s a bitch…)

-so how can you tell me/y’re lonely? let me take you by th hand/& show you ’round

th streets of london…self-pity as creative fuel grows increasingly inefficient for this aging engine…need to tap some higher octane, cleaner burning non-fossil renewable resource! higher power? out of th way, shell-self! trust trust trust & engage-disengage-reengage?
take two, take three, take five. six steps beyond seventh heaven?

jueves 5! 1032h: fuga de instrumentos y amados amigos muertos que resucitan

-invisibles? en mis suenyos… andy de nuevo, maria me dice que se ve viejito, ha presentado un espectaculo de danza- i just missed it, just got back to PR??

hazme legible, inteligible, transparente resistente labrado tallado en materiales tibios terrenos indefinidos sino por amor…como compartir…?

(1301h…) i guess i’ll spend my life/just catching colds & missing trains…

i miss pussy, miss pussy…en agradecidamente larga espera de la muerte me dedico a intensificar hasta lo insostenible una especie de saudade, morrinha o anyoranza sexual…

el gigantismo solipsista de la insatisfaccion? gigantismo insatisfecho del solipsismo?? solipsismo gigante? solipsismo insatisfecho llevado al gigantismo!

que vida esta, esta y ninguna otra…

lunes 2…2056h…

que le vamos a hacer si mi vida es un rosario de veranos natimuertos…

cada cuenta es una lagrima de azabache-

un comprimido de ceniza y rosas mustias

de la llama que nunca se avivo de pasion…

soy el ceniciento…amargado resentido…en larga espera

de una princesa roja que nunca me ha reconocido…

1ero de junio- una semana mas tarde…

luz y sombras…tres menos cuarto…ni encendi ni enchufe siquiera la maquinita despues de todo el trance de cargarla por las carreteras y senderos de la cerdanya…y regresar ayer, total, despues de todo, para que? para acabar de saturday nite special en mi cuartito ruidoso overlooking escudellers??

…eran las cuatro y media al salir de la estacion a la resolana violenta de plaza catalunya a mirar las carpas de la feria de comercio justo…no solo no estaba en las de buscar el estudio donde la argentina marina daba el ultimo taller de contact improv en la calle mina, ni corri, apenas hice un set de abdominales…yadda yadda…sofoco de calor en barcelona y una ola de temperaturas que hasta el pirineo se acercaban desde ayer…

de verdad, lastima no haber preguntado si habia una habitacion disponible para una noche mas en cal pai y haber celebrado los cumpleanyos conjuntos de las hijas de francoise massot

y su compa alain…yo siempre siempre tan pachoso, tan pasivo, tan codependiente…

does anything ever change??

je ne sais pas quoi faire- qu’est ce que je vais faire? je ne sais pas quoi faire…pierrot le fou…

1457h- a la calle, lunch, quisiera un filetito de salmon a la plancha con mucho ajo y guarnicion de ensalada, mas nada, eso es todo, es tanto pedir??

2359h- acaricio el borde boto de otra

medianoche infinita por solitaria soleares

sorbiendo las coplas del joaco…

25 de mayo- election day..

gris llovizna sobre los que votan y los que se abstienen

no hay noticia de resultados anticipados para esta hora de las 1917…

hoy no hubiera sobrado el segundo cafe, el de las cuatro al acabar de comer- en lugar

de ponerme a deambular por la botiga leyendo etiquetas sin decidirme a comprar nada…

pero no…a menos que me decida por media de kola-yohimbe-ginseng para suplir la diferencia…1999- la diferencia de cuatro anyos…vaya que cuatro anyos…

(0018h- donners/freitag- jue/viernes, thurs/friday…jeu/vendredi(22-23)

mierda las fronteras- clara mierda

el rastro de lo consumido

para marcar fronteras- y leche

turbia el saltito al porvenir: leche

materna y leche paterna que compiten

en su determinismo naturista.

(el espejo tiembla sus ecos al otro lado)

corriente fluvial al borroso, encogido

pie de mi ventana: al escabroso

fondo del precipicio cri
stalino

-el vaso rebosa y desborda magia

en silencio, en soledad, en sellada soberbia…

martes 20.

i wear my solitary habits-

routines, appetites, masks-

lightly on my travels- & more nakedly

as my socializing garments tear down, wear out…

domingo-lunes, 18/19…blog structure ease of beginning at th beginning every time…

or is that it? try again. when was th last time i was regular about morning pages??

i’ve never gotten into using ‘word’- was my powerbook functional at all after getting soaked

by ‘georges’ in sept.’98? (yes, for a while after it dried out, remember?-

managed to use it for a bit until th modem connectors froze from saltwater…)

gonna take a while & some effort to reestablish discipline-

wishing is not enough to make it so…

fuga de energias, de animo…por cual valvula

mal sellada, cual costura muscular

llega el silencio de muros aislantes y maquinaria hundida…?

ayuno y modorra, noche nochera…

(dia de las madres…!)