Message.

I feel like I am watching myself from a great and thankless distance.

I am numb with the realization of a reality that I thought that you would dashingly dodge once again.You have gotten away with yourself for so long that I never thought that this time would be any different. The thought of you confined rattles me to my very core.Without choice or liberty. The cold air slapped my face as I made my way to the store tonight to stock up with fresh produce for the week ahead.Miss Nina juiced me acres of kale last night and it turned my pee green and energised my tired cells. I wish that I was still taking care of you.I was brilliant at it.I laughed thinking about how you had never met a vegetable that you didn’t want to beat up but how you tried new foods to please me and that I loved you for it.

Can I thank you for loving me the way that only you can throughout the whole shit-fight that this last year has been,peppered with drawn out court dates,miscommunication,longing and a psychopathic harpie with an a-cup rack and a heinous heroin habit?  I love how you have protected me right up to the last minute,the romance of it all.You still make me swoon with your chivalry.I don’t even know where you are now,where they  have taken you.You protected me from that reality as well even though I wish that you had not.I hate not knowing. The phone rings and people ask me how I am and I hang up.

You know how I am.I am broken.

So glad that I got to speak to you for hours when I was recording. That we stole that time before I had to go and play my heart out again,all these songs that we pen about one another because we are cute like that.How you sent me a list of all our favorite bass players with my name tacked onto the end.That you told me that you were proud of me.That made me smile,

I will always be connected to you.Its not as if we have a say in it.It just is.Sacrosanct and infallible whether we dig it or not. Nobody will ever understand that and why I persist in light of such gruesome infidelity and dire behavior. But we don’t care what they think that  they know (“Fools!”) and nor should we. Civilians cannot fuck with foundlings.They don’t understand being raised on insurmountable loss.Of knowing that you were a mistake from the get-go. That is our kingdom and they are not equipped nor welcome.

La Perdida always find our own in the end….

Sleep claimed me as its long lost own after a long night on a freezing door. I nearly belted the stupid clean off one of my infants for unwise folly but other than that I was far too shell-shocked by developments back on the west coast to react to much really.During frosty lulls in the proceedings I re-read your last messages to me on my ancient nokia and my chest thrummed briefly only to duly constrict against what is even more loss.More than I could have ever imagined. But not as many tears as I would have thought.Only later and only in the privacy of the steamed up rainroom after I had dropped a grip of cash on a taxi to get my mourning-for-a-future-I-never-got ass home as the train lines were down yet-a-fucking-gain. I have been here before.I know that there is a chance that I wont stop if I start so I choke it back. In the war of salt and disconnected numbers I am a solider. I know the rules.

It has come to this.

I cannot seem to settle on anything tonight.Its inappropriate to call someone of my present bulk “skittish” but it will have to do.I wish at times,that my memory was not as good as it is.It leads to grudges and revenge.I could recite my first phone number to you as easily as I could sign my name. Do I make contact with our friends? Ask them what they know? Or have you alienated all and sundry once again with your predictable and ever lamentable behavior? I press the redial button on my almost obsolete phone and pray that you will pick up,that a sky wrapped satellite will send my sleep saturated voice deep into your ear.That  we could both stop trying to be so fucking brave for a second.

It rings out and I am desolate.

The roommate that I adore is avoiding me.She knows the signs in me too well,she can sense my disconnection.That given a choice I will leave her to what she has pledged allegiance to in action rather than word.She can say whatever she likes but I know the backhanded ways of her species.How they complain but rarely maim the aggressor.La sangre siepre ilama. It is how and what they are built for.I understand her kind more than she ever could mine.Its a sad state of affairs but we all have our own destiny.I will work and work until I am able to fund great escapes and unblemished vistas.I can only hope that our long illustrious friendship will survive.

Shit in one hand and hope in the other and see which one fills up first.No hard feelings…..

The house is blessedly silent at last.In two months I would have been living here a year and I have still not properly unpacked.What does that tell you? Well,outside of garden variety laziness. I’m not happy here and its just such a shame.The place itself is great,hardwood floors,a pool.I even have a palm tree which served to make me a little less lonesome for Hollywood for a tenuous tainted time but to no avail….My male roommate,on the other hand, should have been born with a target on his forehead.Should not have been born at all.

I am writing to keep from falling.

I am thinking of you. I am sending up flares into the black velvet sky praying that you can see them where ever you are. The last person that fit me was you. It was always you. I stumble onwards alone patching myself together and residing in dreams that at times are almost tangible.I replay the tiniest details.I treasure them.Sauntering around Spain arm in arm,sliding down frozen streets in Norway,churches filled with the sound of our interwoven voices in Italy,our Hollywood apartment,our shack in Australia. I revisit it all and savor the weight of your heavy callused hand in mine.

I am always trying to make you laugh,to shake your bad moods away.

You arrive at my heretic heart with a profusion of obscene roses and passion fruit tea.I bring you parade drinks choking with double caramel and whipped cream .As we imbibe we speak in shorthand like disconnected Siamese twins.I drink clandestinely from your profile,sneak sips of the cool blue of your eyes.I spin my engagement ring and wait for our desire for each other to become uncontrollable yet again. Smiling like the Mona Lisa I know that the wait will not be long.

You do this to me.

(Jail,Rehab or Death.)

I spend so much time in our past that all the days bleed together and leave me behind.

And a whore.There is always a snake in the garden. I naively thought that you would get right and come home but you decided to punish me with what ultimately did the same to you. You lay down with a dog and you got up with fleas.

But away from all of that and what it has lead you to? You are still mine.

And there?

We are on tour forever my love,tangled on hotel sheets,hot and sated after the show.The tar flees from beneath our renegade wheels as we take each town by sonic force and under moonlight. We are bruised and tattooed.I lick the sweat from your flanks and sigh my shaken stained soul past your cunning lips to nestle deep in the inky chambers of your black heart. We fuck like we invented it.We sleep knotted like a flesh puzzle,our ink talks and tangles together late into the night.

We are always and remain inseparable.

Always.

Inseparable.

We are.

We.