love it

[creativesoul]

it was something that did not need too much from me, it was something that has chased me into a job at a busy and loud place where i did not have to think too much
i have been gifted strength, it seemed that pressing onward, and lifting boxes for three to four hours a night was more impressive than let s say , wearing a dress and getting my nails done and speaking in hushed over tones to a person that would be my "Boss", here in the humming loud and purring sounds of alot of machines and a lot of people i certainly had never met before, i worked, sweated, and on occassion let a huge gas like fart out in total bliss.I especilly liked to do that when i had a very boring representative of the company giving me helping hints about how to do it " faster."
soon afterwards they would go away, and that was fine by me, i would continue doing mindless labor, getting a hot body out of the deal, and good arm muscles.
the night shift is great because, for starters we are all fuckin nuts, we scream and yell and say exactly what we think.
most of the time. anthony is one of those gay men that probably has been dealing humbolt weed for two many years in a row, he angrily in a feminine way likes to throw the boxes down in a tantrum like manner. he is competeive and has a hard time with women that are physically stronger than him. oh well, that would be me. so we sort of race buliding a tier, or wall, and see who cam pick up the bigger packages faster together, i have seen wrose in marriages.
so that is the equilient of that relationship. the men all like him. i sort of get quiet around him, i asked him once if he was ready for the weekend in a strange attempt to communicate
and he replied"they are not that long you know"
he is sort of like that
so i drive home in portland to my new house where i am learning to share with a friend that is quite wonderful, they are tiling my garage, and my animals and i are sort of holed up in my room until they are done. piles of clothes every where. and the state of confusion is apparent, my cat has chosen this particular time to give birth to 3 amazingly- beautiful kittens in the closet. just the other day i drove a cat that my roomate had abandoned and a farm cat from my previous life to the humane society, early in the morning, too early for me.you have to have an appt see.
the cats were screaming , the dog whinng... and i was dreaming while driving that i was asleep.the dog did not calm down until i was done with the overly -friendly woman inside that i wished would stop pretending to like me, and to care. she was a little too much on three hours sleep.
my roomate has chosen this time to buy furniture and have it delivered all the time, it seems.
there is a guy at work mamed JC, people like me do not usually trust people like him. why? because a long time ago when i was in the life, and a teenage prostitute i worked in a massage parlor in berkeley california, there was a black man that owned it and he called his sales tapes some kind of attitude adjustment, whatever.
he made us listen to them. He felt that we would bring in more business if we were listening to sales techniques tapes. I think the thing that a person needs in that business is just plain old fashioned lust, having a scratch you just cannot itch by yourself.
i did not like Mr henry.
i liked bridget who was a drop dead junkie, and doreen who eventually became a police officer, and sandra marvel, no one is really sure if she is still an artist or not, or where she ended up. i talked to her once on the phone years later, she did not want to see me, she wanted to "forget about the past" the hippie communes, the hog farm, the drugs. all of those things affected the choices i make today.
i have been unable to forget about that past. it has changed everything about how i see things.the other night i was watching women on the street in North Piont wherever that is, and i was shocked. I had never seen that kind of prostitution. i am so naive about that. some of the women were flat out showin thier asses, they all had pimps, and some were planning to leave the life. It just is not like that. once you just do it, the rest of you is kind of watching , standing by, wishing for something better.and it is rubbish money, so you spend it pretty damn fast.
it makes it hard to trust, and hard to be real with people, having made some pretty awful choices even after i got off drugs, got out of the life, and still, i have to have a cigarette at three in the morning.
i do not like to sleep with people. my dreams are still only mine, having shared my bed with many, and loved only a few.
regular sex, standard sex just doesnt really do it, it has to be extra-ordinary, or forget it. so i choose to just mindlessly load boxes, to hawaii, california, new york and new jersey. i hear songs in my mind about all of those places, where i have been there etc.
i remember the new york life, the fancy clothes and resturants, and hotels, and how it all sort of melted in my hands. my hands my hands that carry messages to me, and in writing, in touch, and painting. i am quiet these days, having seen betrayal, and it s ugliness that keeps me using my hands, to work harder than most.it is kind of strange how this could make so much sense to some, and none to another.
i have a friend that has been though some of the same things i have, and i learn so much from listening to her. there are some things that stay clear and un interrrupted between women, had i not been raised by those women in berkeley i might be dead right now, i loved them, i loved it, and i still am not sure what happens to people like us.
i still laugh when i think about skinny Bridget, and her yellow skin under the red lights, painted with alot of make up, and false eyeslashes saying things like, " I tell the trick that that man is the aquarium man that he is here to fix the fish tank" she was half in the bag most of the time, just above slurring her words.
back in thse days everyone smoked, and she alwqys had one lit, the smoke circling her like a prayer.
doreen was sneaky..... she was working up there, her husband had no idea? i swear that is crazy now, but back then, ya just never knew things. now it seems like everybody knows everthing, and simple tasks are becoming difficult for us old hippie indians.
it is as if all the THC has finally erased anything that would help me in this technology laden world. I wonder does anyone sleep? I see old hippies with canes or motorcycles, but the age element is starting to show.
i see the lines in my cheeks from scrunching up my face in the sun. i see my eyes are getting darker, and the green is melting down into a swampy pool. there is old man s beard groeing in all my emotional trees.
i sleep with animals and i love the cats. they purr so loud, i use it like a meditation, the rumble and warmth of the little motor.i sense that movement is what i have left. that the music and the prayers, and thoughts of the people i love will fade slowly.like a passing thought- or the smell of vanillia- like painted skin with glitter on the eyelids-like the sexy images that intrigue me when i see a beautiful person....
i like walking around Portland, and the many colored hair, the wildness of the late night conversation. the artists having art parties.
i have three computers at home. i live out of piles of clothing. i do laundry to try to get some sanity.i want to go to sleep.
i go to AA meetings and I see people that i cannot always understand, but i know they are like me.
i love it
even on the days when college is strange and graduate school even foreign, i feel alive. i feel like what i have is purity, beauty and happiness. people like me do not know what all of that means.,the indians like me to sweat and pray and dance, and i can do that.
i feel so clean , so made pure by those ceremonies, which when you find your consolation in pussy, well that is the truth is it not? the three kittens in the closet are only one day old. how did i get so lucky? life- love it= or not- but these pieces of my life are swirling like a fan from the 1950s spinning like the seconds inside a minute- like the minutes crawling up into one hour- one simple hour of focused energy-

[stilltrucking]

Yeah I got to love it
Nice stream
A real good GO at it.

thanks