2002Nov17
[probable date]

Sunday coffee before Vacaville
Disorderly conduct for flippin’ the bird to a cop… what nonsense! I think his point was quite clear.

Morning news, and the normal heartsick blues, racks my mind and taunts my eyes with fog and distant music. Drums fall away replaced by the usual chatter. Not white noise but a chaotic rhythm still… still… stillness. I feel untouchable in the most terrible way. My words fall into black holes as if no one wants to listen. I am, again today, a world broker – broken of a certain will to satisfy desire at any cost, accepting my fate as isolated as it may be. “I am not a passenger. I am the ride.” Says the song and I think of myself as a chauffer, lost without a map, looking for a sign.
And so long past the point of no return, I take my foot from the cliff behind me and place my trust in whatever momentum I can contain as I enter into the long moment before me, suspended above the chasm of the abyss, and pray that my faith will be enough to land me safely on the other side. And in my longing I hope to find you waiting, still, for me. Forgive me, God, for my undying wish to be in the arms of my beloved. I want no other.

[next page, probably a different day]
I run into Leticia with a sharp resound… I went reeling like a dreidle until I caught Suzette and she, me arm in arm. We spin off each other, act as catalysts and inspire each other. My thoughts dribble today as I process and ponder this gaping hole that Suzette fills so well. Or does she? It’s maybe an illusion that comes of my will to heal that she readily stimulates. I wonder what my writing looks like at a distance as I feel the world’s ability to watch me. Thank God I’m not on the internet!
——Freud: The mark of a healthy human being is the ability to work and the capacity to love.
Which is it that I have problems with? My capacity to love is extraordinary. It’s my ability to work that is lacking I feel, or is it? What am I not capable of doing? My body works, though my energy levels could be stabilized by diet… and I need to quit smoking and drinking (or at least cut back). My problem is emotional. My capacity for intimacy frightens even me. I was awaken when I was too young – tricked into it, really. And yet it’s the common goal for humanity to reach a higher level of awareness. I’ve had (and do have) mixed feelings about the shock of reality that I was exposed to, but the past is the past and the fact is I survived. Now for the deep empathy left behind I suffer the awareness of relation to the death of the world and must use this empathetic gift to lessen (cushion) ‘the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to’ – to serve – and to feel a purpose (¡Voluntad!)

Oh Leticia,
This letter is the first I’ve written with no intention of sending or showing. I scared you with my ability to go so deep… and I had not harnessed my void in service, confused my need with love. Now I’ve found success and a sense of purpose, and I understand. All the old prophecies echo through my mind and I know that I am living my fate. I am happy, though I never thought I could be without you.