secret: missing

i have a list of those i miss
i could almost alphabetize it

christmas is
a bad reason for thinking of the ones you love. i love
you all, your missing laughs and eyes and hands
your explosions of conversation in my ear, your
bad jokes and off-key songs

i have a list,
i have a list.




i don't believe in jebus. i don't believe in new year's, really, not in the way that we mean it in this here and now, the planning and the buying of tickets and the expectations of it.
i plan to be at my closest pub
i will buy beer
i expect to have a reasonably good time.


i do like the idea of an excuse for celebration, for the 3 day christmas extravaganza (although i feel a little exhausted, or over-tired, just now), but i also love about whistler the fact that we find cause to celebrate a good powder day. or to celebrate all of us having the same day off work.

i celebrate you all, mi amigos, but what i dislike (and alternatively, embrace with macabre enjoyment) is the missing. the ones i love. the best ones i know.

i've realized a big part of it is ego. because the ones i know and love, the ones i miss, they miss me too. and that makes me somebody, even if i am in canada.

i miss their comfortability. i miss their jokes. i miss them. and if they miss me too sometimes, then they know who they are.






I don't believe in magic
I don't believe in I-Ching
I don't believe in Bible
I don't believe in tarot
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Jesus
I don't believe in Kennedy
I don't believe in Buddha
I don't believe in mantra
I don't believe in Gita
I don't believe in yoga
I don't believe in kings
I don't believe in Elvis
I don't believe in Zimmerman
I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me.

god, john lennon



except that i believe in Beatles.





happy birthday jebus, jebus it's your birthday.


amen, and to all a good night.