i blanked for a moment. i was caught, under the bright lights, in a room of metal and wood, by a single glimmer. light refracted through a tiny drop of water, clinging to her skin, a single shining diamond adorning her arm.
in another time, with another person, perhaps i would have reached out to it, and she would have turned to me. but in this time, with this person, i could not, should not, did not.
the night ended. i left.
earlier in the day, i had washed the car in the rain, as my dog lay just under the car wash's roof, looking out at the birds in the light drizzle. i explained to her that with several weeks filled by constant rain, i hadn't had a chance to wash the car, and i figured that, as with her, clean and wet was better than dirty and wet.
but now it was dry. the air was not as heavy with moisture as before. a crispness was creeping in. air whispered past, not yet wind or breeze.
i dropped the top, drove away. out on the far horizon, across the hills to the northwest, the sky was illuminating, silently, distantly. but here, in the car, only music.
in my dreams, i was drowning in sorrows, but my sorrows, they learned to swim.
i needed a drink. it was 9:02. i drove to one after another. they were all dark. i drove down Ben White to Congress Avenue. the skies to my left were demanding more and more attention. i could make out streaks of light.
And I fight back in my mind. Never lets me be right.
I got memories. I got shit... so much it don't show.
Oh, I walked alive when you held me in that night.
Oh, I walked alive when you held my hand that night.
An empty shell seems so easy to crack.
Got all these questions, don't know who I could even ask.
So I'll just lie alone and wait for the dream. Where I'm not ugly and you're looking at me.
And I stay in bed. Oh, little I've seen there.
If just once I could feel love, oh, stare back at me.
But I walked alive when you held me in that night.
Oh, I walked alive when you held my hand that night.
Oh, I walked alive when you held me close that night.
I paid the price. Never held you in real life.
My lips are shaking...
i drove north, through the First Thursday revelers along South Congress, filling the sidewalks and bars, dashing my hopes of going to the bar with the fresh-squeezed grapefruit and vodka i'd come to love.
across the bridge. in the cool air, at speed, the smell of bats and their leavings left me alone with the lights of the city. only now do i realize how small it was when i was a kid, how small i was, how big hope was for me then.
the lights glistened, but they were all dull and yellow, or colored cheaply. i remembered the drop of water on her arm, a perfectly clear universe of light and coolness, everything, just... there.
The drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep,
and the saviors who are fast asleep, they wait for you
And I wait for them to interrupt, me drinkin' from my broken cup, and ask for me,
Open up the gate for you.
I want you.
and then i knew. i turned west, drove hard to the expressway, turned north, and it was just speed, trying to get there before it was too late, to where the sky beckoned me, guiding me with strobing promises, mixed promises of fury and destruction, and of rain, of a deluge of drops like the one i'd seen, the air full of those universes, of, maybe, her. or maybe just of potential, of hope, a drenching torrent of it.
feeling alone
with you by my side
further and further away
funny how long
a moment can seem.
when you're trying to hold on
west on the ranch road, the twisting road through and down the hills, into a valley. motorcycles and boy racers push along this road every night. it's not hard, but it demands attention. shift, brake, accelerate through the curve, watch to see if the road is just fresh new asphalt, or dark road with a light, slick coat of rain.
here, no words mattered. it was just beat. the killers. peter gabriel.
the tempo of the flashes was building. down through the valley, both hands on the wheel, and finally, just for now, a destination in my heart, the engine howling, taking me to pierce the boundaries of the only beauty and violence that seemed to match what i've felt.
100 miles an hour up the big hill on ranch road 2222, like i was launching into the sky, my back to the earth, my eyes focused into the storm. drive. drive. drive.
the four lane highway ended into a two-lane road, twisting and writhing like a dragon fighting back. shift, brake, steer. the road would plunge away ahead of me, into a tight turn. take the number on the caution sign and double it. all the deer were in shelter by now. the sky was beginning to rip open ahead of me. the flashes were becoming blinding, like flashbulbs, and the questions pounded at me.
dark angels follow me,
over a Godless sea,
mountains of endless falling,
for all my days remaining.
what would be true?
and still, no rain.
i began to feel flashes of fear. the strikes were now to the left and right, ripping down in jagged gashes of ferocious brightness, like a tear in a dark curtain cloaking a white-hot star.
i blanked for a moment. i was caught, under the bright lights, in a room of metal and wood, by a single glimmer. light refracted through a tiny drop of water, clinging to her skin, a single shining diamond adorning her arm.
in another time, with another person, perhaps i would have reached out to it, and she would have turned to me. but in this time, with this person, i could not, should not, did not.
the night ended. i left.
earlier in the day, i had washed the car in the rain, as my dog lay just under the car wash's roof, looking out at the birds in the light drizzle. i explained to her that with several weeks filled by constant rain, i hadn't had a chance to wash the car, and i figured that, as with her, clean and wet was better than dirty and wet.
but now it was dry. the air was not as heavy with moisture as before. a crispness was creeping in. air whispered past, not yet wind or breeze.
i dropped the top, drove away. out on the far horizon, across the hills to the northwest, the sky was illuminating, silently, distantly. but here, in the car, only music.
in my dreams, i was drowning in sorrows, but my sorrows, they learned to swim.
i needed a drink. it was 9:02. i drove to one after another. they were all dark. i drove down Ben White to Congress Avenue. the skies to my left were demanding more and more attention. i could make out streaks of light.
And I fight back in my mind. Never lets me be right.
I got memories. I got shit... so much it don't show.
Oh, I walked alive when you held me in that night.
Oh, I walked alive when you held my hand that night.
An empty shell seems so easy to crack.
Got all these questions, don't know who I could even ask.
So I'll just lie alone and wait for the dream. Where I'm not ugly and you're looking at me.
And I stay in bed. Oh, little I've seen there.
If just once I could feel love, oh, stare back at me.
But I walked alive when you held me in that night.
Oh, I walked alive when you held my hand that night.
Oh, I walked alive when you held me close that night.
I paid the price. Never held you in real life.
My lips are shaking...
i drove north, through the First Thursday revelers along South Congress, filling the sidewalks and bars, dashing my hopes of going to the bar with the fresh-squeezed grapefruit and vodka i'd come to love.
across the bridge. in the cool air, at speed, the smell of bats and their leavings left me alone with the lights of the city. only now do i realize how small it was when i was a kid, how small i was, how big hope was for me then.
the lights glistened, but they were all dull and yellow, or colored cheaply. i remembered the drop of water on her arm, a perfectly clear universe of light and coolness, everything, just... there.
The drunken politician leaps upon the street where mothers weep,
and the saviors who are fast asleep, they wait for you
And I wait for them to interrupt, me drinkin' from my broken cup, and ask for me,
Open up the gate for you.
I want you.
and then i knew. i turned west, drove hard to the expressway, turned north, and it was just speed, trying to get there before it was too late, to where the sky beckoned me, guiding me with strobing promises, mixed promises of fury and destruction, and of rain, of a deluge of drops like the one i'd seen, the air full of those universes, of, maybe, her. or maybe just of potential, of hope, a drenching torrent of it.
feeling alone
with you by my side
further and further away
funny how long
a moment can seem.
when you're trying to hold on
west on the ranch road, the twisting road through and down the hills, into a valley. motorcycles and boy racers push along this road every night. it's not hard, but it demands attention. shift, brake, accelerate through the curve, watch to see if the road is just fresh new asphalt, or dark road with a light, slick coat of rain.
here, no words mattered. it was just beat. the killers. peter gabriel.
the tempo of the flashes was building. down through the valley, both hands on the wheel, and finally, just for now, a destination in my heart, the engine howling, taking me to pierce the boundaries of the only beauty and violence that seemed to match what i've felt.
100 miles an hour up the big hill on ranch road 2222, like i was launching into the sky, my back to the earth, my eyes focused into the storm. drive. drive. drive.
the four lane highway ended into a two-lane road, twisting and writhing like a dragon fighting back. shift, brake, steer. the road would plunge away ahead of me, into a tight turn. take the number on the caution sign and double it. all the deer were in shelter by now. the sky was beginning to rip open ahead of me. the flashes were becoming blinding, like flashbulbs, and the questions pounded at me.
that i would be good, even if i did nothing.
that i would be good, even if i got the thumbs down...
that i would be loved, even when i numb myself.
that i would be loved, even when i am overwhelmed.
and still, no rain. but now, it was the driving, it was the furious pressing into the night, the headlong rush into mayhem and power that i could not question or understand.
and finally, the fury was all over me, in the heavens, in some other life. the world had come undone around me. the skies were angry, lashing out at the earth, searing my eyes. the sound had suddenly erupted, as well, just seconds behind the lightning.
i was a little afraid. but i also thought that maybe this was right, that i had journeyed to the heart of a god saddened, tortured, angered by the pains that love and hope and despair make his children heir to. maybe a single bolt would find me, a rare, merciful intervention, maybe just a happenstance not averted, a disaster allowed. pavarotti sang over the edge's guitar:
Dici che il fiume
Trova la via al mare
E come il fiume
Giungerai a me
Oltre i confini
E le terre assetate
Dici che come il fiume
Come il fiume...
L'amore giungerà
L'amore...
E non so più pregare
E nell'amore non so più sperare
E quell'amore non so più aspettare
but for all of this, there was no rain on the windscreen, none on my face. i could see miles of earth lit by lightning, now bright enough to see color bright, distinct, vibrant. but the walls of grey, where the rains fell and hope soaked the earth, was still miles and miles away.
the country road met a four lane thoroughfare in a northern suburb. I had come over thirty miles, trying to catch the storm, and i had. but there was no cooling rain for me. that pouring heart of the storm was not here, not yet. it was still far off in the distance, farther than i could drive tonight, and the thunder was warning me away. she was not here. it was just me and God, telling me that it was not yet time, for love, or for an end.
i turned the car around and went home.
you say that the river
finds the way to the sea
and like the river
you will come to me
beyond the borders
and the dry lands
you say that like a river
like a river...
the love will come
the love...
and i don't know how to pray anymore
and in love i don't know how to hope anymore
and for that love i don't know how to wait anymore.
