coming back from illness. drinking ephedra twig tea and goldenseal ticture. coming back (to myself?) so much to recover from here. school in shambles. my mind in disarray. walking in a dream and sinking. so many undone tasks. writing assignments. films to send off.
last week i took out my leather jacket. the one i always cherished. the one i wore in paris when i rode the metro to visit clients. the one that used to hang in my closet until "little jims" on friday nights. the one that kept me warm on january nights on long walks home. the one i liked to feel tightly zippered up to my chest. the one with the silver ring in the shoulder. the one that used to bring me stares. the one i liked to wear to be svelte and cruisy and desired. the one that smelled like dark chocolate. the one that smelled like new cowhide. the one i oiled up. the one i slept next to. the one i knelt on. the one nori gave me as a gift. the one i promised to never sell. the one i wore when people said i looked like a young brando. the one i wore when john h. kissed me on the mouth at big chicks. the one i wore to art openings. the one i wore in fast cars. the one i would never wear in front of my mother. the one dorothy said wasn't me. the one men mistook me for someone else in. the one i flirted compulsively in. the one i felt right in. the one that made me someone else. the one you wear if you're the youthful protagonist in a jean luc godard film or attending a village people reunion party, or a mad sex addict at the eagle, or a sal mineo look a like. the one i hung onto even though i couldn't bring myself to wear it anymore. the one where there are no photographs of me wearing it. the one that i took out to howard brown's white elephant resale store last week to give away as a donation. (who will buy it, wear it, love it, make memories in it) my second skin, my history, my leather jacket. i traded it for a used copy of k.d. lang's cd "ingenue" and went home to play: "i've been outside myself for so long . .so long."
xavier's birthday is sunday. maybe futo maki. maybe fritters and cheese grits. maybe paella. we'll see. but first, a theatrical adaptation of sherwood anderson's "winesburg, ohio" at steppenwolf. i think it's a musical. but can it be as good as bailiwick's divine "being beautiful"? four black drag queens from the forties . .oh how magical . .i still get goosebumps when i think of their faerie good performances . .brilliant.
i've gotta sleep. gotta come back (little sheba?) come back (to myself). oh me .. me! (outside myself) come (for so long) back! comeback.
