One misplaced picture taken years ago on my twenty third birthday, found tucked away in a hidden drawer. Two initial thoughts: age coming from my head; commandment coming from a conversation heard from afar. One blank piece of paper that progressively divulges my state of mind in the swirls of China blue ink. The truths about my present -both positive and negative- begin precisely on that path where I found that lonely sunflower. A long lost road of whose whereabouts I ignore.-
The Truth Lies in Positive Dadaism.
Initial thought: Commandment
Truth is you are not always right. You should listen. Yet you care. They walk home. You shine. The Sun sets. I fly with the parrots. The greatest view is from above. Like the waters from that dock. Pulling of the rope and flames coming from within. My name was called. Sundays of looking up and not making it, of hiding lucky necklaces in my pocket. Just like the pins. Where is that second cufflink? Glad I met you. All of you. A long time ago, all of you. Under that tarp. A sea of familiar faces, tucked away under the soggy rain. Yellow dresses, golden ties. Cars that reach one sided roads. Just happy to be with you. Even if I never was. Alphabets tucked away in yellowed envelopes. A lonely sunflower by a random road on a random place. The Sun does not shine under covered bridges. Ichabod strikes. You keep talking. Opened doors. It’s me.
The shrill of joy. Of standing up and watching stars under buildings. That kiss. Scared to give it to another. Could not have lived through the boats had I done it. Hovered by the buckets. Endless sunshine. Letters never delivered. Postmarked stamps that smell of Paris. Elevators rising up above. Conversations below by a sofa. Portobello does not sell Rembrandts. It’s all really in the chase. A bunny slipper. Forget my name. Stickers only tell you how many jellybeans are in the jar of red jam. Bullfighters at dawn that make you never want to leave the maja’s. Decadent laugher. Stuck in a moment. Like Cinderella stickers attached to the tubes. She tumbles into bed with me and bawls her eyes out. I caress her hair as if to comfort her, when in reality it should be the other way around. A door closes. I look up at the hall of saints. Apparition through realization. Truth is sometimes you are right.-
The Truth lies in Negative Dadaism.
Initial thought: Age
Truth is I’m not twenty three. I don’t do nights of pints. I can’t have the seat next to you. I don’t have the chase. I really don’t know what to do. I don’t really have the time to think about it. I shouldn’t have done it. I never should have. Never should have met you. All of you. A long time ago all of you. Truth is it does hurt that the gulls made it. I didn’t. I don’t know how to get out of the tree hole. I should have closed that conversation window. All of them. Never should have said yes. Pretend. Be myself. Ignore. Shout out. Leave out. Hide myself in the dark corner. Waiting for it to happen. Satisfied that it did. Mortified that they’ll find out. Stupefied that I’m dumb enough to care.
Truth is, I never should have opened that newspaper. Copied that picture. Stopped for the sunflower. Never should have climbed into that car. Bear the false name. Singing, looking, hoping. I never should have looked into that mirror. Better yet, I should have. Looked hard and intently. Reality. The inconvenient. The necessary. Truth is I should have stayed away from that groveled path. Watch you smoke. Not caress your hair in contempt. Truth is I should have told the truth a long time ago. Never look down at my shoe. Sweep the wooden figure down the hole. Envy you. Want to be you. Listen to you. I should have hit. Hard. And never care. Truth is I can’t. And I couldn’t have. Probably never will. I should have never signed that card. Hide her name. Invoke the Virgin. Truth is I am him. Without the attitude. Accepting the ignorance. Forgetting the criticism. Embracing the cherries. Truth is the bird does cackle. And the bitches know the secret. I am twenty eight.-