two different fronts of the same war

after several days in limbo i have returned to the land of red-lettered licence plates. there are boxes and carpets and towels and chairs and old purses everywhere. the journey back to heterotown has taken long enough to remind me that this is all only temporary. a one-night stand alone in a heritage hotel room. or something. i keep forgetting that i'm not about to pack everything back into the car and turn around to go home. i keep forgetting that's not allowed. i keep forgetting this is what i wanted. this is what i wanted. what i want is all so relative.

the last days of my vacation have been spent in various states of restlessness and anxiety and hysterics. some combination of the full moon and a particularly nasty case of pms and all of my material possessions in boxes and crates and bags in the backs of cars and the bottoms of buses in transit across british columbia. i am not cut out for the life of a vagabond. not right now. give me a pumpkin coloured westfalia van and a couple of jangling anklets and maybe. maybe.

everything in this town is still brown and i'm beginning to feel like i haven't had a decent night's sleep since october. this, now that i think about it, is probably true. last night i smoked a bowl at two am and read high school yearbook scrawlings before i went to bed. this was intensely amusing,
(-um, mr. lailey... i think some people thought the acid was waste and they put their waste in it.
-what?! like who?
-well, i did...)
but it probably wasn't a very good idea.

in the dream, we were in a dim antique warehouse with a high, industrial ceiling. i pulled a sepia crocheted cardigan with mother of pearl buttons on a thin wire hanger out of nowhere. i wanted it, but so did you. i let you have it and kissed you against the counter while the cashier counted your change. your mouth tasted like cinnamon hearts. i could feel you grinning against my lips.

sigh.

this afternoon in the mec parking lot, i looked skyward and said ok, calgary. let's make the best of this. this is what i'm trying to do. o god, i'm trying.