TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: profile
Do you remember that afternoon we sat entwined among the columns overlooking Lake Merritt, as cormorants dove and black-crowned night herons skulked? We called what we felt love, to be italicized years later, indicative of some elusive, indefinable, and sadly ephemeral sense.
2010 was the year you gave me up, and wanted me again, and lost me, nevertheless. The year I cried for weeks, the year I was disgusted by daylight, the year I couldn't read books or watch movies. The year I lived out of a suitcase for months. The year of ruthless purges; no more clothes, books, habits, anything that reminded me of you, us, the past of PS+JR4 EVA. I gave up longing for a soulmate.
2010 burned me to ashes, and in the ruins of that old Phil, a little phoenix rose... a little wobbly on her feet, but alive, alive!, to strangers, journeys, new activities and consequent joys. I've moved on and perhaps I should thank you for that night you shattered the old world, that withering way of living. How else would I have known that little phoenix?