Enduring Animation: Part 1

I don’t know where to start. But with the feeling. It was. Beautiful. Like daises on a sunset river. Flowers singing in the air. I never felt at home like I felt up there. The trees sung too with shades all prime and rosy. Like cheeks blushing for kisses. Smoldering for spanks. Dreamin’ down lazy river. Fireworks would shoot up like Christmas, reflecting off the water into vanity. You become suspended in fire… and it’s amazing. More than dreams. Into paradise at night. Then take the boat back, the sky now lit with a more natural and less pollutive photon. Particles from the future told us bedtime stories as we moved by. Amazing storytellers. The best. Beyond everything but those eyes. How? Lying on the dock in the moonlight. The milky way wrapping us in a blanket. Lips, nose, eyes… neck, breasts, neck… cheek, lips, hold. And then drown forever. I haven’t been here in years and it felt like yesterday. All of it. Dinners, dogs, cobs, frogs. Wine, beer, steak, deer. Love, hate, sex, date. Family in friends, moments the best before it ends. Connecting to memories turned real once more. Connecting to everything once more. It flowing through my veins like cocaine this time and whether it was the fresh air or not that shit hit me nice. And the wood being the same as it was. The ceiling too. Deep oak, darker than Mary’s cheeks after five glasses of wine. The fan was still on from the previous renters. A note on the table; Welcome to the Polly Cottaige! Make youreself at home! At least he kept the same furniture. But he did change the damn fan. Far too bright, especially without the light on. I walked around a bit in dismay. Slowly starting to settle and actually see the place. The light from the lake reflecting off the sunsetting dancers, making love to the water in spiritual essence of orange and blue. I stepped outside to see more – the door cracked behind me like it always did – and was brought immediately back to six years of age. The wind touching my face, smells so good you can’t describe, freedom so clear, and safety so surrounded. I was a truly blessed child. Feeling it in every step as I walk across the deck with every creaking floorboard, then down to the stoned pathway and onto the dock, where I begin to float. The cool breeze and warm sun making a cocktail of my molecules, served up nice and easy. Everything was so alike it felt more home than anything else.

I unpack and cook dinner, the smell of pizza filling the place, reminding me of loud music and substance abuse summer nights. Laughter and love on the kitchen floor. The kitchen was pretty much open to the rest of the place as the kitchen was the dining room was the living room was next to the two bedrooms which was next to the bathroom. All spaced neatly beside the other comfortably, but nonetheless being in a tight hug. I smiled unknowingly. Trying not to focus too much on missing the place already… Wondering what I was going to do. But the decision was already pretty made.

The familiar lighter click and first few coughs of smoke brought familiarity and thus comfort, with the taste and the feeling bringing far much more. Lighting her up and sailing away. How could I not on an evening such as this and at a place such as this and with a habit such as this? It was beautiful and she brought me ever closer. And I even brought my journal for some writing. So, who’s to kid? I write some fucked up shit when I’m high


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