It’s Time…

you’re pretty good
at a lot of things
like charming snakes
or ignoring what stings
avoiding things is
your forte
you just laugh it off
in your strangely
charming
fucked up way
if it isn’t today
and it won’t be tomorrow
why does it matter
it’s just a waste of sorrow

you just shrug it off
you know that someday
some things will happen
but it isn’t real
until its here
and you don’t feel

until you feel
it’s getting near

so maybe running away
is the right way
just run away from
the day it comes true
maybe if you keep yourself
aware enough
and alone enough
you will be all you need
and will end up
with nothing but you
I know you don’t know
what the hell to do
with yourself
some of the time
how do we handle
what isn’t yours
and isn’t really mine?
we simply don’t
because we just won’t
boundaries that become
too unclear
make it too uncomfortable
for us to stay here

so we’re out
yeah, we’re gone
I know I never
seem to stay for
very long
but I’m not wrong
to use my freedom
as my own
whether you like it
or not
if I don’t like it
I’ll find my way home
to somewhere else
by myself

because I know me
better than you do
inside
and out
can’t show you
what the big picture
looks like through
my eyes
and what I think it’s
all about
we could speak
we could not speak
we could cry
hysterically
or scream and shout
and it won’t ever
amount
to anything more
than a disagreement
the same one
we had before
so skip the intensity
of stupidly chosen
emotions
save it for something
that can be changed
I can’t be changed
any more or less than you

It’s just time
time to let go of
what is over
and must be
left behind
time to find
my place in now
and who I am
to say goodbye
to who I was back then
I question everything
and trust nothing,

therefore I am……….

just a little sparkling gem
amid the cesspool
in orbit around
a mortal heat
that gives the
mortal heart its beat

just another start
of something else
that won’t last forever
victims of the never sever

the end of the world
chaos and catastrophe
time and atrophy
are somewhere next to the
apocalyptic thoughts
that have been
known to haunt
the darker alleyways
in the dazed maze of
my mind
the same mind I lost
the same one that needs
to find
its place in time
wherever it is
it’s still mine

I shouldn’t love you, but I do

I shouldn’t love you
But I do
I could say that I don’t
And know it isn’t true
Sometimes I wish I didn’t
Sometimes I don’t know
How I do
I could lie
Pretend to defy
what I feel
but instead
I think I’ll just
Be me
and who I am
Stupidly,
I’ll always try
To be a good friend

I guess there isn’t
very much
in such
a sad and small
little world
that ends up
equalling anything
at the end of the day
not tomorrow
not yesterday
and as far as I am concerned
Not even today
I don’t have much peace
with the thought
of wasting
what time we have
before one of us
loses the other
when I think of that
I honestly can’t find
any reasons that
are good enough
to spend the life
we live apart
from anyone we’ve ever
let inside out heart
when someday
the separation won’t end
someday
we’ll run out of time
to make amends

I’m glad I don’t do to you
some of the things
you have done to me
but I want you to know
that I really don’t
judge you by your actions
or think any thing less
of you for anything
I don’t want you to
waste time feeling
guilt or regretting
I’d rather you just kept
my heart in mind
when you do things
that could crush
or fuck with it
and if sometimes
you don’t
I won’t
let it mean
we have to lose
each other

I just want to know you
while we’re here
I try really hard
to make it clear
what I feel
matters most
that through good and bad
we don’t end up alone
I may feel anger
and I do
And I be in a lot of pain
from being hurt by
things you do

I might feel all alone
but I’m not
and I haven’t forgot
that the love I feel
makes the scars of
every dark thing
that I’ve felt
Melt
And just drip away
day by day
I will try not to take
too much time
to get over
whatever stupidity
wedges its way
between us
no matter what
no matter what you do
something you will
always have
is me
whatever that’s worth
or however much that means
all I really ever want
is for you to know that
so instead of lying to us both
I’ll just keep trying
to show that

Get Over it…

how do you get over
something?
you don’t
maybe just knowing
that you won’t
is freedom in
some way
all that really
happens
is the tedious
work of Time
as it takes it away
dulling it out
day by day
making smaller
the pain
it’s still there
like a scar
part of who you are
can’t escape
the parts of you
that you don’t like
can’t take any
of the wrongs
and make them right
and it’s right
beneath the surface
just gets buried deeper
as time goes by
like a corpse of something
left to dig the rest
of its own grave

Better ride this ride while I’m on it…

This is not done…
This is for you, Rick. I wasn’t going to post it unfinished, but I got stuck for some reason and if I don’t post it now it may never make it on here. I have much more to say, and I will.

It’s nighttime where I am
What does it look like
Where you are?
Here where I am
It’s too dark to see
Much of anything
If there is even
Anything there

Maybe when it
Gets light
It will reveal
A world as empty
As I feel
I know I’ve lost you
But I can’t
Let it be real

Not yet
The hurting
Is on hold
On the other end
Of the line
Across the thousands
Of miles between
your world
and mine

But since it is
Pain meant for me
It’s impatient like I am
And it warns me
That it won’t hold for long
After it agrees to wait
It reminds me
That I’m not as strong
Now that I’m
Without you

I wish it wouldn’t
Start at all
Because I know
Once it does
I can’t stop it
I wish it would see
How little I have left
And out of mercy
Overlook me
But it won’t

And I won’t
Know what to do
Love like this
Isn’t even love
There is no way
To say it
There are no words
For what it weighs
To lose it
Or betray it

I know you know this
But I’m sorry
For everything
That made it
Come untrue
For everything
I could have done
But didn’t
Couldn’t
Or wouldn’t do
I’m sorry that
I couldn’t keep alive
What we had
That made me feel
Alive
But I hope you know
How hard I tried
I know you know
How hard I cried
And I want you to know
I will cry like that
Again

And it won’t be
The same as when
You were there to
Hold me
And to be there
As my witness
To see
How I feel
Rather than just
Hearing it
How I say it

I wanted you to see
In every tear
that I meant
every word you hear
When I tell you
How much I love you
I wanted my sobbing
And the sound of my
Heart aching
To tell you
What it meant
If you left
And what you’d be taking
almost everything

I know
I had to let you go
But so many
Slaughters ago
My heart was doing
Better than you’re
Leaving it now

Like a giant wave
With a whirpool
To be my grave
Rising and gathering
My heart is stuck
In the tidal wave’s
Crush
As it crashes
And turns to ashes
Against a bed
Of deadly rocks

The storm
Is formed
Around the

I talked my way through this one

I got away

For the moment
So I thought
I’d run away
And instead
I ended up
With you again
Today

You just won’t go
Away
And if you do
Maybe after all this time
I wouldn’t be able
To let you go
I don’t know
I think I could
If you were ready
I think I would

If only you could
Have better understood
What was behind
My words
In the front of my mind
Not sure you knew
The fucking unbelievable kind
Of something
That I had for you
In my heart
It was something
But it was everything

Where do I go
When I go?
I don’t know
But I know
I go there alone

I wish you would
Close your eyes
And trust me to
Guide you through
The fire
That you said you’d
Walk into for me

It’s still blazing
And amazing
And it’s right there

So where do you go

When you go?
Take me with you
I’ll be along for the ride
At your side
Forgetting false prides
Getting down to
The real shit
Guts and insides
King & Queens
Grooms & brides
Secrets safely
Being told
Promises as solid
As gold
Sacred
Can’t be sold
Too bright
Our light
To let us be cold

I want to take care
Of you
And stare
At you
I want to look at you
Long enough
To melt
You make me
Feel feelings
I have never felt
And I see them
With my feelings
Don’t question me
I have my millions
Of reasons
Don’t doubt my love
It’s greater
Than a thousand
Hurricanes per season
I’m sorry
But I’m just not leaving

I just can’t
We’re not done
With this dance
We both thought
We were taking
The same chance
But I think that
All that meant
Was that we were
Both afraid
Of the same things
Turning your back
On an ocean like this
Can be fatal
The deadliness
And depth
Of such betrayal

I don’t want
To cause you pain
That was never
My hope
Or some game
Only a series
Of wrong turns
That we both
Made
Look what we’ve made
And what we’ve made
It through
We’re still here
And I know I’m still
In love
With you
Stay in it with me
Please?

See those perfect
Sand dunes
Flawless in the
Moonlight
Stretching out
Throughout
The time
That’s been
Yours & mine
Reach out and
Touch them
Spanish Smooth
Stay there
Don’t move
Just breath
Here with me
My head on your chest
It’s you over here
Separated
From the rest

Here is your gift
I hope it’s still me
You better know
How much I love you
Here
Have a cookie flower
It’s yours
To devour
Will you be mine
And let me give you
Everything I ever can?
I’m your favorite person
But I’m also your biggest fan
Hold my hand

here I am…

here I am… it’s winter now
I don’t know how
I survived another
fucking summer
but I did
and here I am
breathing
and speaking
and moving
and thinking
doesn’t really
mean I have
survived at all
maybe that’s a

stupid thing
to think


it’s always
almost autumn
down here
at rock bottom
but we’re used
to that
it’s just a
matter of an
unfair fact
we maybe used
to be just a little
bitter about it
but we’ve been
over it for a
while now
can’t explain how
but believe it
we know
what we’re
talking about
and besides,
no one really
gives a shit
anyways…

mirror, mirror
on this wall
who do you see
like a fly on the wall
you probably
see it all
should I ask?
try to grasp
whatever it says

maybe I have to know…
Mirror, Mirror
On the wall
Who is the one
I would love to see fall?

Like the leaves off
the trees
amber colored
just like these
dying in piles
that grow and grow
as they please
like defeat
as you drop
to your knees

I have just as much
of a right
to pick a fight
with any group
or person
that I reserve the
right to judge
as anyone else
on this fiery
function backwards
backyard
of hell
but I can’t
I just know what
I am
I’m just one
of them
I may be as
wrong about them
as they are
about me
but since there is
no way to see
laughter is my
lantern
I move in the
delight
it sheds on
all the nothing
in front of me
I hope no one cries
because of me

hey
so just because
you’re a beauty sleeping
doesn’t mean you’re
sleeping beauty
because goddamnit
I can’t wake you up
no little earthquakes
could shake you up

I want to go home

There’s no place
like home
There’s no place
like home
and I left there
long ago

time travels
around me
at the speed
of light
while it still
somehow
creeps by
at a snail’s pace
leaving behind it
a slimy trail
of regret
to remember

time travels
and I wonder why
I can’t travel
back in time
all I wanted
was to walk away
from it
when it was mine
then again
I can’t say I’m
really sorry
for how the
story went
in fact
I think it’s
gone beautifully
as far as
it’s been told
but still looking
for home
is exhausting
and old

so when I go there
by myself
to the most painful
lonliness that
my soul has
ever known
I might scream
or yell
or curse
or cry
“I want to go home’
and when I do
I mean it
in the way I did
when I got hurt
or was tired
as a kid
when I’d cry
exasperated
and give up
look to either
mom or dad
and ask
‘can we go home?’
the answer
was always yes
even if it wasn’t
always right away
I knew every time
I asked it
it would be there
and at the end
of every day
guess I can’t
really better explain
the comfort
I gained
from just knowing
we were going
back home

thought I was
ready
thought I was
done
overlooked
understood
thought my
adventure
would replace it
and believed
that it could

so when I cry
what does
the word home
mean when I cry it?
it is that same
little haven
in my head
but I’m remembering it
like something lost
or someone dead
don’t really
want to go back
there now
it won’t be what it was
anymore
and it never will

home it seems
hopes and dreams
wasn’t a place
but a memory
a little still-frame
taking place in the past
that ended when I left
but ended way too fast
it was perfect
I was me
but back then
I couldn’t see
how being that close
was better than
being completely free

Nautical Slaughter

I wish I could
look away
like at the doctor’s
when you’re a kid
Sure, it’s what
I asked for
but look at
what you did

It’s the lonliest place
I have ever been
and sometimes
I get stuck there
for so long
I’m just a different
kind of strong
because of the time
I spend there
you can watch me
while I’m in it
but you’ve never
been there

there is no glory
there is no pride
it’s all seek
so I can be denied
and find that
the chaos inside
my mind
leaves no room
for me to hide
even though I know
what I’m walking into
is burning down
around me
I am always right
there in the middle
of the same flames
It never gets better
the pain doesn’t change
it only gets worse
running on these
same old veins
sometimes I’m just
what remains
of a person
still haunting
their own lost life

so here I am
and I’ll spend
the rest of my forever
passing in between
reality and my reality
or I might find a way
to keep at bay
the temptation
to do it all again
you were there before
so you remember when
I didn’t know
this darkness
not forgetting
you don’t know
how dark it’s really been

there is nothing you can say
there is nothing you could do


if there’s no cure
there is no chance
hoping and caring
and bleeding and bearing
trying is lying
and screaming
and swearing
believe at least
in only what
you see
and when I tell you
there are no words
for what it feels like
feels a little like
light at night
that just won’t go away
it’s something that
you either know
or don’t
no matter what I say
the pain
in sheets
of acid rain
gives it a much
better name
than I could ever
pin down
into sounds
it’s wild
and it stays that way
I’m the ground it
tramples over
I’ve existed
under its weight
and when I think
I know it well enough
to put it into words
it leaks out of
language
and it leaves
only a lousey
hint that it
was there

I cry for me
because I’ve
watched myself
along the way
become the me
that hurts this way
and only I know
how much of it
was out of my hands
and how much
was in my own
that shouldn’t have been
even if I did it over
the same things
would happen again
it’s really hard
to make amends
with the present
even with a past
full of good reasons
to explain it
I understand
why the wrong turns
were taken
so much later
after the damage
the draining
the distress
of standing back
to behold
that kind of mess
to be told
what fault you’d had
even when you hadn’t

that attrocity
has cost you me
but I promise you
that it has cost me
much more
my heart is a shipwreck
somewhere
I’m just what
washed up on the shore
somewhere deep
under the water
you can still find
the nautical slaughter
all the pieces of my
heart are down there
sunken into whatever place
each one of them landed
not sure what anyone
would do with all of this

I know sometimes the
smaller splinters of it
have been found
sticking just barely
out of the ground
spotted by a
quick little shine
when they catch
the sunlight for
just a second
that borrowed light
used to be mine
I’ve heard stories
from those who’ve
found one along
this shore
I hear they’re
rather amazing
some say better than
the seashells found
in the ocean’s sand
I guess it would have
to be right here
in my hand
for me to say
either way
certain seashells
will forever hold
inside them the
sound of those ocean
waves rolling
crashing
and roraring
if it looks deep enough
to hold the sound
then hold it to your ear
do the same with my heart
that shattering is a echo
of it’s breaking that you hear

Somewhere deep under the water
you can still find the nautical slaughter

here it is: something I don’t want to write

Okay, well I think I’ve certainly managed to put off explaining what I hadn’t included last time…
I have been trying not to think about it too much, because it makes me incredibly sad for an incredibly beautiful reason.

A couple weeks ago I started out to write this, and abandoned it before its end. With me, that is always a guarantee that whatever made it onto the paper will never be returned to or finished. I have to re-write whatever it was from start to finish. I can’t stop in the middle of something important and pause the force of energy that powers what is being written. And if I do stop somewhere along the way, the heartbeat of the story being told fades out like a song as it draws to a close. It is impossible for me to know what I woud have written next, if I try to pick up where I left off. Because I can’t hear the rhythm of the current that was cut off. just doesn’t work. at least not for me. so I can’t use what I started to write…

alright…it’s time to come out with it. here it is…

Rick is gone. gone as in relocated to New Mexico, which might as well be on the other side of the fucking planet. he’s been gone for a little over a month, and I have missed him each day since he got on that greyhound bus while I was sleeping at the motel 6. Marcus had been hanging out with us there that day, and had passed out on the bed while Rick was packing. and then eventually, I passed out myself. I don’t really remember the last few moments of awareness that come right as you fall into sleep itself, so that usually means that I was very tired. well when I finally woke up (feeling like shit, I remember) Marcus was awake, and Rick wasn’t in the room. I asked where he was, and he told me that he had taken my car and given him a ride downtown, to buy his bus ticket and that he was gone. I knew that he was going to buy it that day, but I guess I hadn’t realized that meant he was actually leaving on the same day. I would say that it made things worse because I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye, but that wouldn’t be the truth. I know he did it to spare us both of having to say it, and I thank him for it. It would have been too difficult. I’m glad that he and I have almost always been on the same wavelength. I think it’s a very big part of our friendship, our bond, or whatever you want to call it. I don’t think there is a term for it, personally. It is highly unique. And as it tends to be, because of the rarity of relationships like ours, they are precious in ways impossible to turn into words. it isn’t something that can be told, like a story, to anyone outside of it. those who experience energies like these are the only ones that ‘know’ them as a result of being a part of it.

so anyhow…coincidentially, he is working at a motel 6 down there. heh. I will never forget anything from the time we spent staying together at the motel 6 in troutdale, and a couple of times switching to the 92nd and stark location. when we had to get out of the apartment because of a bunch-of-bullshit eviction, I had led the way to the motel in my little escort wagon, and rick followed right behind in my piece of shit van. the entire van was literally filled to the top with boxes and rick’s belongings. everything but the driver’s seat, and even that was on the verge of being obscured in the labyrinth of all that we had room for. what he had left to take that the van couldn’t hold, I had in the back of my wagon, along with my own stuff. but I never have much, since I have never settled in somewhere of my own, and my place to stay has never really stayed the same for very long either. I have jumped around a lot. Or drifted, which is how I usually phrase it. when I moved to portland two years ago, all I came here with was one big black suitcase full of mostly clothes, that I had borrowed from my grandparents when I had flown out to Missouri the second time. I still have it today, and it has gone everywhere with me. It is actually kind of sentimental in a weird way. It is a tangible representation of famililarity. unlike a couple years ago, it no longer holds everything that I drag around with me from place to place, in a different car just about every time. now I have a few big travel bags that go along with it, mostly just clothes as well. I really don’t own much of anything other than clothes, which I am constantly as a method of avoiding having to do laundry, as ridiculous as that sounds. so I guess in some ways, I am still a creature with very little material needs or strong desires, or I guess I just don’t require much. low-maintenance, that’s what I mean. not all the time, or in all matters. but overall, I would consider myself more low-maintenance than the average person. hell, what the fuck do I know about anyone ‘average’? nevermind. know the fuck knows.

Okay, we’re starting a new paragraph because I had started going off on a tangent trail there for a second, and I don’t want to stray too far from the path. god, there were so many times when Rick and I were together, and did nothing but go from one tangent trail to the next, for hours and hours, talking excitedly about a million different things, but never managing to arrive at whatever original thought had provoked the conversation, and whatever it was became lost as handfuls of other thoughts crowded each of our minds, waiting in line outside the rave club that was always booming inside my head and that was always overflowing, chaotic, and wishing it could hold more of them long enough to keep them all. I thought our tangent trails were fucking awesome. sometimes we reached a level of absurdity that obliterated being able to speak and instead all we could do was laugh at each other, or ourselves, in acknowledgment of how comical or ridiculous we were being. I love the way he breaks out into the smile that he does after I say something funny. I remember it perfectly. the details, exactly what it looks like. it is fresh in my mind right now, and that’s fairly impressive since I haven’t seen him in over a month and my mind’s visual memory space deteriorates into nothing at an alarming rate. it always has. normally I would be struggling to remember the way someone had looked at any given time, especially if I hadn’t seen them in a while. it was really priceless. I think a lot of the times when I was talking with him, I would concentrate a good deal of energy into cracking witty jokes at the right times, because I wanted to see him laugh. there was just something very…pure, or even innocent in some sort of way, about the particular smile that I got out of him right after something I said, and I recognized it easily as being the introduction to his laughter that always followed it up.

I have’t let a single person take even one photograph of me since the last one that Rick took before leaving. I don’t think he understands that I can’t replace him. I can’t force the comfort that I felt when he held the camera and took one picture after another as I did whatever I was doing, no matter what it was. he took them while we talked sometimes, unconcerned about trying to apply any sort of structure to the pictures, and without worrying about what the end result would end up being. it was very natural, the way he took the pictures. it was brilliant. I was totally relaxed, in a way that I don’t think I have ever been with another person, even when they weren’t photographing me. it kind of blows my mind realizing that. I cant imagine just carrying on with conversation, or walking around the house, or tweaking on my computer while someone took pictures of me as I was doing it. I would be freaked out and unable to function. I would only be able to focus on what they were doing, and be worried about what I should be doing.

I have spoken with him a few times on the phone, and we have made plans for me to come visit him there for a little while. we were going to do it this month, but I had an idea that was worth waiting for, which I presented him with last night when I called him, and which he totally agreed we should do. I am going to go there for my birthday. I pointed out how close it was, and reminded him that he has taken pictures of me on my birthday for the last two years. we have a set of photos dated October 2nd 2005 and another one taken October 2nd 2006…and it is really important to me that there be a set for October 2nd 2007. more important than I understand well enough to relate to someone reading this. I feel like it has to happen. like I need it to happen, or I will not be okay in some way. whatever that way is, I don’t want to find out. I just want to be with my best friend on my birthday again this year, and I am so lucky to have had him with me for my 18th and 19th. I am unbelivably fortunate to have known him at all. he is more important to me than anyone else, and that’s the truth. my grandparents, my little sister, kevin, my mom (in some fucked up sort of abandoned way), marcus, shea lynn, and a list of others are all of great importance to me, and I care immensely for each of them. but it’s just different than any of the relationships I have with those I love. so different that I don’t understand it. I know why it’s so difficult to catergorize or define, or compare to something else, and I know why it leaves me in a kind of awe that has no language. I know why it feels and appears to be a very vague mystery. it kind of is. but I have a name for it, and I have called it by this name for quite a while, it is one of my favorite words and its meaning is a topic which I have admired and devoted a great deal of thought to in my life thus far, and a theme which has stayed with me as time has continued. it’s name is: transcendence. it’s something we don’t know very much about. but sometimes, we are exposed to it in relatively small doses and it is no surprise that we don’t know what in the hell to think of it.

well this energy that exists between me and rick is a real-life story of such a case, where two people are given a dose of true transcendence.

I feel like this is the end of this entry. there is so much more to remember and to preserve with words, a vault full of memories from the last couple of years since we met. I will tell more of our stories in the future, and I know that there will be countless other references to the things I have learned from my relationship with him, things I have felt because of it, ideas that have been inspried by it, inside jokes that don’t make sense outside of it, and all of the rest of it too.

Rick, if you’re reading this please just know how much I will always love you. Thank you. For everything. Because everything is exactly what you gave me.

-ash

here it is: something I don’t want to write

Okay, well I think I’ve certainly managed to put off explaining what I hadn’t included last time…
I have been trying not to think about it too much, because it makes me incredibly sad for an incredibly beautiful reason.

A couple weeks ago I started out to write this, and abandoned it before its end. With me, that is always a guarantee that whatever made it onto the paper will never be returned to or finished. I have to re-write whatever it was from start to finish. I can’t stop in the middle of something important and pause the force of energy that powers what is being written. And if I do stop somewhere along the way, the heartbeat of the story being told fades out like a song as it draws to a close. It is impossible for me to know what I woud have written next, if I try to pick up where I left off. Because I can’t hear the rhythm of the current that was cut off. just doesn’t work. at least not for me. so I can’t use what I started to write…

alright…it’s time to come out with it. here it is…

Rick is gone. gone as in relocated to New Mexico, which might as well be on the other side of the fucking planet. he’s been gone for a little over a month, and I have missed him each day since he got on that greyhound bus while I was sleeping at the motel 6. Marcus had been hanging out with us there that day, and had passed out on the bed while Rick was packing. and then eventually, I passed out myself. I don’t really remember the last few moments of awareness that come right as you fall into sleep itself, so that usually means that I was very tired. well when I finally woke up (feeling like shit, I remember) Marcus was awake, and Rick wasn’t in the room. I asked where he was, and he told me that he had taken my car and given him a ride downtown, to buy his bus ticket and that he was gone. I knew that he was going to buy it that day, but I guess I hadn’t realized that meant he was actually leaving on the same day. I would say that it made things worse because I hadn’t gotten to say goodbye, but that wouldn’t be the truth. I know he did it to spare us both of having to say it, and I thank him for it. It would have been too difficult. I’m glad that he and I have almost always been on the same wavelength. I think it’s a very big part of our friendship, our bond, or whatever you want to call it. I don’t think there is a term for it, personally. It is highly unique. And as it tends to be, because of the rarity of relationships like ours, they are precious in ways impossible to turn into words. it isn’t something that can be told, like a story, to anyone outside of it. those who experience energies like these are the only ones that ‘know’ them as a result of being a part of it.

so anyhow…coincidentially, he is working at a motel 6 down there. heh. I will never forget anything from the time we spent staying together at the motel 6 in troutdale, and a couple of times switching to the 92nd and stark location. when we had to get out of the apartment because of a bunch-of-bullshit eviction, I had led the way to the motel in my little escort wagon, and rick followed right behind in my piece of shit van. the entire van was literally filled to the top with boxes and rick’s belongings. everything but the driver’s seat, and even that was on the verge of being obscured in the labyrinth of all that we had room for. what he had left to take that the van couldn’t hold, I had in the back of my wagon, along with my own stuff. but I never have much, since I have never settled in somewhere of my own, and my place to stay has never really stayed the same for very long either. I have jumped around a lot. Or drifted, which is how I usually phrase it. when I moved to portland two years ago, all I came here with was one big black suitcase full of mostly clothes, that I had borrowed from my grandparents when I had flown out to Missouri the second time. I still have it today, and it has gone everywhere with me. It is actually kind of sentimental in a weird way. It is a tangible representation of famililarity. unlike a couple years ago, it no longer holds everything that I drag around with me from place to place, in a different car just about every time. now I have a few big travel bags that go along with it, mostly just clothes as well. I really don’t own much of anything other than clothes, which I am constantly as a method of avoiding having to do laundry, as ridiculous as that sounds. so I guess in some ways, I am still a creature with very little material needs or strong desires, or I guess I just don’t require much. low-maintenance, that’s what I mean. not all the time, or in all matters. but overall, I would consider myself more low-maintenance than the average person. hell, what the fuck do I know about anyone ‘average’? nevermind. know the fuck knows.

Okay, we’re starting a new paragraph because I had started going off on a tangent trail there for a second, and I don’t want to stray too far from the path. god, there were so many times when Rick and I were together, and did nothing but go from one tangent trail to the next, for hours and hours, talking excitedly about a million different things, but never managing to arrive at whatever original thought had provoked the conversation, and whatever it was became lost as handfuls of other thoughts crowded each of our minds, waiting in line outside the rave club that was always booming inside my head and that was always overflowing, chaotic, and wishing it could hold more of them long enough to keep them all. I thought our tangent trails were fucking awesome. sometimes we reached a level of absurdity that obliterated being able to speak and instead all we could do was laugh at each other, or ourselves, in acknowledgment of how comical or ridiculous we were being. I love the way he breaks out into the smile that he does after I say something funny. I remember it perfectly. the details, exactly what it looks like. it is fresh in my mind right now, and that’s fairly impressive since I haven’t seen him in over a month and my mind’s visual memory space deteriorates into nothing at an alarming rate. it always has. normally I would be struggling to remember the way someone had looked at any given time, especially if I hadn’t seen them in a while. it was really priceless. I think a lot of the times when I was talking with him, I would concentrate a good deal of energy into cracking witty jokes at the right times, because I wanted to see him laugh. there was just something very…pure, or even innocent in some sort of way, about the particular smile that I got out of him right after something I said, and I recognized it easily as being the introduction to his laughter that always followed it up.

I have’t let a single person take even one photograph of me since the last one that Rick took before leaving. I don’t think he understands that I can’t replace him. I can’t force the comfort that I felt when he held the camera and took one picture after another as I did whatever I was doing, no matter what it was. he took them while we talked sometimes, unconcerned about trying to apply any sort of structure to the pictures, and without worrying about what the end result would end up being. it was very natural, the way he took the pictures. it was brilliant. I was totally relaxed, in a way that I don’t think I have ever been with another person, even when they weren’t photographing me. it kind of blows my mind realizing that. I cant imagine just carrying on with conversation, or walking around the house, or tweaking on my computer while someone took pictures of me as I was doing it. I would be freaked out and unable to function. I would only be able to focus on what they were doing, and be worried about what I should be doing.

I have spoken with him a few times on the phone, and we have made plans for me to come visit him there for a little while. we were going to do it this month, but I had an idea that was worth waiting for, which I presented him with last night when I called him, and which he totally agreed we should do. I am going to go there for my birthday. I pointed out how close it was, and reminded him that he has taken pictures of me on my birthday for the last two years. we have a set of photos dated October 2nd 2005 and another one taken October 2nd 2006…and it is really important to me that there be a set for October 2nd 2007. more important than I understand well enough to relate to someone reading this. I feel like it has to happen. like I need it to happen, or I will not be okay in some way. whatever that way is, I don’t want to find out. I just want to be with my best friend on my birthday again this year, and I am so lucky to have had him with me for my 18th and 19th. I am unbelivably fortunate to have known him at all. he is more important to me than anyone else, and that’s the truth. my grandparents, my little sister, kevin, my mom (in some fucked up sort of abandoned way), marcus, shea lynn, and a list of others are all of great importance to me, and I care immensely for each of them. but it’s just different than any of the relationships I have with those I love. so different that I don’t understand it. I know why it’s so difficult to catergorize or define, or compare to something else, and I know why it leaves me in a kind of awe that has no language. I know why it feels and appears to be a very vague mystery. it kind of is. but I have a name for it, and I have called it by this name for quite a while, it is one of my favorite words and its meaning is a topic which I have admired and devoted a great deal of thought to in my life thus far, and a theme which has stayed with me as time has continued. it’s name is: transcendence. it’s something we don’t know very much about. but sometimes, we are exposed to it in relatively small doses and it is no surprise that we don’t know what in the hell to think of it.

well this energy that exists between me and rick is a real-life story of such a case, where two people are given a dose of true transcendence.

I feel like this is the end of this entry. there is so much more to remember and to preserve with words, a vault full of memories from the last couple of years since we met. I will tell more of our stories in the future, and I know that there will be countless other references to the things I have learned from my relationship with him, things I have felt because of it, ideas that have been inspried by it, inside jokes that don’t make sense outside of it, and all of the rest of it too.

Rick, if you’re reading this please just know how much I will always love you. Thank you. For everything. Because everything is exactly what you gave me.

-ash