going through drafts of emails

love it love it... what funny little moments in time that have a distinctly different quality than the "sent" box.

&found this one from my last week in port angeles

Draft saved at Wednesday, September 16, 2009
From: e.s.b.
To: smelly
Subject: songs i have been singing

i was lying in my bed last night
staring
at a ceiling full of stars
when it suddenly hit me
i just have to let you know
how i feel...

we lived together in a photograph of time
and i look into your eyes
and a sea is opened unto me.
i tell you i love you
and i always will,
and i know you can't tell me.
i know
that you can't tell me.

so i'm left to pick up
the hints that are symbols of your devotion.
and so i'm left to pick up the hints that are symbols of your devotion.
and i feel your fist
and i know it's out of love.
and i feel the wind (?)
and i know it's out of love
and i feel your burning eyes
oh
burning holes straight to my heart
it's out love
out of love

and i accept and i collect upon my body
the memories of your devotion
i accept and i collect upon my body the memories of your devotion
and i feel your fist
and i know it's out of love
===============================================

hands down
i'm too proud for love,
but with eyes shut,
it's you i'm thinkin' of.
but how we move from a to b
it can't be up to me
cause i don't know.
eye to eye,
thigh to thigh,
i let go

think i'm a little bit little bit
a little bit in love with you
but only if you're a little bit little bit
little bit in luh luh luh luh love with me

and for you i keep my legs apart
and forget about my tainted heart.
and i will never ever be the first
to say it
but still i
yeah you know i
i i i
i will do it
push a button
pull the trigger
climb a mountain
jump off a cliff
cause you know baby i love you love you a little bit
i would do it
you would say it
you would mean it
and we could do it
it was you and i
now only ah hm!

think i'm a little bit little bit
a little bit in love with you
but only if you're a little bit little bit
little bit in love with me

come here
stay with me
stroke/struck me by the hair/head (??)
cause i would give anything
anything
to have you as my man
=========================================================

on the hogwarts express with crabbe goyle pansy,
chillin out maxin compartment 3D,
no it was too much to expect privacy,
especially with a reject like our friend harry.
that's when i started talking about voldemort...

as i was explaining my sweet new posish
i saw a shoe or a small piece of fish.
no it was a shoe that my two eyes did see
under a cloak of invisibility.
that's when thoughts started creeping up on me,
i knew exactly what i'd do.
make you wish you'd act more quickly
and that i never saw your shoe

i'm gonna kick you in the face
i might do it twenty-seven times just in case
i know nothing could ever replace
the picture in my mind of your kicked-in face

after they left i went through with my plan,
i tied two strong knots around both of your hands.
made you listen to striker and enter sandman,
gave you a piece of my duran duran.
you didn't like it what is wrong with you
[there's one or two more lines here...]

i just kicked you in the face
hey harry potter how does your blood taste?
i know nothing could ever replace
the picture in my mind of your kicked-in face.

and I remember actually listening to these songs and typing out the lyrics, it was about that act of "writing" them down instead of finding them and pasting them. which is why i never sent it, 'cause i realized that there's no end-difference between those acts when you're on a computer. the songs are by antony and the johnsons, lykke li, and harry and the potters.

aflutter in maracuja-colored sweatseeds

a ritual of destrangifying strangers..."oi, tutu bem? tutu bom. (nod, smile, smile, nod, shake hands, hug, kiss on one or both cheeks, eye contact, nod, smile) tutu bem, tschau."

after i ate the little pile of black beans with onion and sausage and ooooh scraped up that liquidy proteiny black sauce, i told marcos and kathryn and azya who were sitting around me, "you know? this is the first time i've eaten anything with meat in it in the past 10 years."
time is circling, circling, closing, opening. it's 13:40 now in a little yellow LAN house-internet cafe (minus the cafe, that part always confuses people when i ask) in alto paraiso. in a few moments we may very well be sucked up by a UFO, who knows, this town is sitting on crystals under falling stars and all the signs point to something mystical. if not a UFO, a bomb to the head, a sip of ayuasca that is an unidentified pathway to objective flight...

on thursdayish we took the bus from brasilia to alto paraiso, then another bus to sao jorge, which is a tiny village, and then marcos picked us up and took us to grota funda, which is about 40 minutes outside of sao jorge on roads red like bricks but with huge crevasses left by the rain. the farm is beautiful and quiet-loud with insects and sunsets. there is another wwoofer there, kathryn, from buenos aires/rio/michigan and she speaks portuguese well and we've been singing and speaking of permaculture and cooking, collective living and spirituality, maracuja and the portuguese lilts...then our little farmfamilycrew of five came back to alto paraiso two days ago (sunday?) for a ayuasca ritual (visions of flight and sensations of growth and purging until i found some contentment amid hymns of universal connection and a forest of stars) and
smiling
smiling
place to place,
i'm getting tired of not speaking portuguese,
need some new songs,
forming and reforming my body from opaque skin to vessel, a kind of mediation, i've been thinking about this a lot since the ritual: body as vessel. voice as vessel. giving minimally mediated voice to that which can be eaten or drunk but cannot speak for itself.
also i've been listening to images and awe, encouraging my creativity,
today, missing the baohaus and its inhabitants and cohabitants and the common language of strangeness.