Notes

"The lost traveller, after all, has a consolation that the country around him is constantly changing, and with with every change is born a new hope of finding a way out." Soren Kierkegaard The Seducer's diary

"Our live is a journey, in winter and night. We seek our pasage..."

She'd just moved up from LA. She had no relationship drama, and intended to keep it that way. The best about her day was a free cupcake she had acquired from a nearby bakery. She was saving it for her new year's breakfast. I asked her how far it was from the shop. She said about 2000 meters. I asked her how many steps that would be from her desk. She didn't know. I suggested she count. "Just 70 more steps til my cupcake, I'm calling my friend to tell them that I'm only 60 steps away from the dessert...."

I rode into the alley and saw only a few people that I knew amongst the crowd.
"Mariko, I know you," I shouted.
Mariko stood by the door of the gallery her small body mashed in by a hoard of hipsters all attempting to move into the building. Her body bobbed up as she was smashed in, the pressure of the bodies pushing her upwards.
I locked my bike down the alley and went back looking for the buoyed girl, her friends, or some acquaintance. I wandered around the crowd, nervously looking for a connection.
I saw a girl that I admired and conspicuously avoided her, wanting nothing more than to bring in the new year's with her in my arms.
Mariko and I stood near each other. I made fun of disneyland, which upset her and we worried that we would be shot down by bottle rockets. The crowd counted down to the new year and I felt the anti-climatic change of years, much like the passing of night into day. I rode a crowded bart home.

Last night I dressed in my vest, gray slacks, a black tie, and my ray ban glasses. The club was one third full and I saw the usual suspects; the asian guy that dresses as a pilgrim, the tall red haired guy that wears a suit wherever he goes, the small asian woman that djs every event. I also saw this girl I took on a date once. We met at a club. We danced and I got her number. A week later we met at Golden Gate park. I read a short story to her, Honey Bear, by Haruki Murakami. She loved it. We ate fruit and drank juice. I couldn't remember her name last night. I never called her again. I could feel her eyes on me as she danced with someone. I had my back to her.


And so, one night, I'd like to sneak,
When the darkness tolls the hour of pleasure,
A craven thief, toward the treasure
Which is your person, plump and sleek...
And most vertiginous delight!
Into those lips, so freshingly striking
And daily lovelier to my liking -
Infuse the venom of my spite
Charles Baudelaire