settling

a different sort of settled.

listening to The Mountain Goats now, to the wonderful happiness that is 'The Sunset Tree'. 

ok, maybe i'm not settled.  maybe that's not quite it.  maybe there's a sneaking sort of feeling, a tiny elephant in my room.  perhaps there's something there, and i'm not wanting to look at it because i don't know what it'll mean.  another piece in the puzzle?  another start?  are the pieces starting to drop? are the balls slipping down the wire? 

i could get used to it. 

there are things and times that become monumental, moments in life that simmer and burn deeper into memory into others.  they are the ones i pick up and pass around my mind like a beautiful little shiny object, glimmering and precious, that needs to be handled.  they make a brightly coloured glitter tube of things i've done, and people i've loved, and places.   i think i might be on the edge of some, because things are shifting out and around and the arrangement of my life is becoming something slightly different again.

i always go back to the cliff on bowen tce, in my mind. i imagine myself standing on that cliff, staring out there. i wonder why, sometimes, it's the most vivid way in my mind of summing up brisbane.  i took lovers there, yes, but i took lovers in my bed more often.  somehow, that place captures a place i was mentally more than any other location. i remember the time H and i got drunk on lust and red wine with J.  we ended up in a sexually tense ball around him, and J slept on the floor and H in my bed, and i could feel them both there, my beautiful boys... i broke up with H there, and i cried, cried cried there whenever i was left alone, and emptied. i was there, bitten by mosquitoes before running away to J's place and crashing there, the night we slept together.

i climbed the fence and stood on the cliff face with S once.  he was a virtual stranger, but i feel in love with him hard and fast and beautifully, and that was all we needed.  not even sex, not even touching, but something else on the cliff's edge, his long lank shoulders...

my friends, my lovers elsewhere, when i think of taking them to brisbane, that's where i take them in my mind. i want to paint them into that place and show them that, because i feel like it holds something essential about myself. i want to take B there, more than anyone in the world. i want to jump the fence with her, and hold her hand, dangling our feet over the edge.  the cliff is huge, large enough to kill you if you fell, easily. it doesn't feel dangerous. it feels safe as you look over the river and the bridge and the building and the streets and you are THERE and i am THERE, and i would take her there and we would drink goon from the carton and draw on each other's hands with felt pens.