Letters from the Village..

Finally.
Only a day away.
But i on some cosmic level might just miss the village.
watching soccer with the dad and brother..
god knows i hate soccer... even now. I just pretend to love it.
But the men have nice hair. So its worth while on some gay level.

That last bit was totally unnecessary but felt needed.

Anyway, lets just get one thing straight.. the letter N wont be.
Cause if you lose the N.. life becomes tedious and harder than child birth.
more trouble than breast-feeding as man, and as difficult as drinking wine from a saucer.

okay, once more.. the last comparison is not as hard. but is annoying..


I am on my way home tomorrow, without a functioning Blackberry.
And god knows that seems horrid.
the idea frightens me..
Okay, i dont need it on the flight.. or before or after..
but it feels like you do, understand?
no?
well, whatever then..


I have learnt in the last few days, whom my true friends are.
the ones who tried to speak to me, and succeeded cause the refused to give up.
Be it through facebook, twitter, msn, yahoo chat, email or bbm/text/phone call.
I love you all to bits and pieces. more bits than pieces.

I am having a glass of wine, and talking to some lovely people.
cant wait to see you all again.

Now, my time in the village went from horrid, to okay, to horrid, to lovely to okay again.
I am working on a new short story. finished a chapter in my "book" (which seems to be deleting itself cause of my horrid writing) and wrote a new poem.
very productive for me, considering i spent only a week here.
it usually takes AGE for me to write a single thing, but the seclusion and so forth has really forced me to focus on these horrid little hobbies.

Anyway,
my blackberry is being replaced.
im going home, i miss the pollution and love so much.
its crazy.
GIVE ME SOME FUCKING BOX WINE.. im so over the organic kind..

seriously considering becoming vegan for a while, and if that works, a permanent switch, no?
Which would be hard, since my family practically live around the stove..
and oils, meats and creams/eggs are always there..
But shall see.


Now, the new poem? maybe?
okay then.

Subway.

I have loved you,
once before.
but that was on a subway, and your coat was different.
way different than the rag you wear now.
But i still love you.
even though you feel ashamed,
even though you feel different.

I remember the sweaty twirls,
Large women in even larger sun flower print dresses.
The men, slick haired and ready to pounce,
Un-aware of you, or even me.
Dancing daringly.
Covered in blue pansy’s and poppies,
Large women should not wear flowers.
Government gardens look better.

I remember,
The dirty nailed days of scratching the kitchen tables,
Begging an un-known god to let you win,
Even once would be enough for you.
One win in the card game.
Your mother would not understand.
And your brother would sit there,
Stunned and speechless.
Then the next hand will be dealt.

Life has moved on.
Bus tickets have changed.
The subway has covered more ground,
More km’s than most would in their lives.
But i still miss you.
And your coat.
Even though now it is nothing more than a rag.
And dirty cloth, tattered and torn.

I still love you though,
And i wish you would answer more often.



Love fookers
<3