[i]☼ ○ ▬
I’m locked in a time continuum inside four shifting rooms
representing four different time zones. I’m explaining to a race of tiny people
(like in Gulliver’s Travels) about the coming future of popular music
genres. I reveal that in the first period post-pop-progressive sounds will be
popular. In the second period, it will be post-emo-pop. The third,
electronica-pop. And in the last days, tribal hop-hop will take its reign.
▬ ○ ☼ ○ ▬
Inside a house with Aysena and a few of her family members,
maybe sisters. Danger outside...men with guns. I take the leadership role of
the situation and make sure everyone’s safe. At some point I’ve ventured
upstairs where I discover a Thai restaurant. Even though I’m not interested in
eating anything I grab a menu from the counter to appease the dark-skinned man
waiting to serve me. I look over the balcony to find that Aysena’s former
boyfriend has arrived and will be staying here overnight. The whole situation
between them is foggy to me. I thought the relationship was over but he doesn’t
seem to act like it. They walk upstairs and sit down next to me. The boy, whose
name is understood to be Michael Wise for some reason, accidently bumps into
me.
Me: “Hey man! Watch it.”
He doesn’t apologize but instead mutters something rude.
Me: “Excuse me? What did you say?”
His attitude is hostile. I feel uncomfortable and I can’t
understand why Ays isn’t doing anything about it.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up at 2 p.m. on the dot.
Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.
Errands.
Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar
Chips. Sweet Green Tea.
Watching Bernie (2011).
I got invited to Leslie’s house. She lives with her stepmother
and father who’s been successful as a dentist for some odd 30 years and
therefore owns a fancy house out in Little Neck. As I’m given a tour it’s
revealed her dad has an affinity with the color purple. I’m not used to being
inside such extravagant living quarters. I recall when I was a boy living down
the street in a big house like this with my mom, but only for a brief time. As
well we had rented out rooms. Leslie continues showing me through the halls –
select artwork hung on the walls, some of her composition.
...
I notice two stainless steel salt n pepper shakers. I pick
up the salt container and press the button at the top. It automatically grinds
the salt crystals and distributes them at the bottom along with a convenient
light that shines upon where they land.
Leslie: “These are the most important things that is in our
house.”
Me: “That’s a big statement.”
Leslie: “Oh no. Because in case of an emergency they’re
flashlights.”
Me: “What? So when you wanna use it as a flashlight you have
to get salt constantly coming out of it.”
Reid (her brother): “Also if you run out of batteries you
have a trail to come back.”
...
In her bedroom. The Shins lightly playing on her Mac. She
leaves to help her brother with some physics homework while I’m left to explore
her bookshelves. Sitting down and looking through her personal art scrapbook, a
collection of doodles and poetic excerpts in mostly chronological order from a
child to the present day. As I’m flipping through all the sporadic images and
words I experience a mini overwhelming moment – thinking about all the
beautiful people I know and the richness that each one of them bears, and
specifically in this city. And there are probably more vibrant souls that I
haven’t even met yet. But here I am sitting in this room inside this big house
within this neighborhood in this one of a kind city a part of this unique
country on this vast planet...learning about one soul in particular.
[ii]
She returns and asks, “Did you find anything interesting?”
Me: “Oh yeah.”
She notices I’m holding her art scrapbook and says, “That’s
my life book.”
...
Leslie: “Another thing is that I play games with myself,
like I try really hard to just be okay all the time and I find myself doing
things that contradict what I should be doing for myself.”
...
Downstairs hanging out in a pristine clean kitchen to which
her dad is apparently OCD about keeping in order so much that he could easily
walk in, notice a speck, and take the effort to wipe it up immediately. She
makes fun of him for it. I’m fed delicious Salmon and Couscous leftovers.
Amidst the conversation Leslie makes aware to me, “I will
hop the train to tangent town without even realizing I entered the station.” I
chuckle.
Back upstairs in her room listening to her sort through
memories and looking through old photos. Talking about past relationships.
Me: “I’m very passive and very accepting of others...too
understanding in the sense that...it was really hard with someone like her
because she was such an aggressive, um, pursuer...and just like, she wanted
control. And here I am this timid little man...who isn’t very controlling...”
Leslie: “Or doesn’t have a desire to gain control. It’s like
fighting a battle that you’re not fighting back.”
...
Reading through a favorite book of hers that tells about
strange sports you never knew existed like toe wrestling, ostrich racing, and
extreme ironing.
As I walk outside to leave I notice the ice frost that’s
developed on my car. It’s really that time of year. The moon is exceptionally
bright and glows through my front windshield causing me to pause for a moment.
Back home.
Chocolate Chip Cookies with Milk.
Sleep 5 a.m.
[i] Marius
Roosendaal.
[ii] Scrapbook
by Leslie. Image by me.
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