Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Gone for Good

I found a fatal flaw in the logic of love.

Hi friends. I'm assuming that you are all my friends because you are here and you care about my life and existence and stuff. Or you just randomly wound up here. In which case, there are no naked women here. Just keep pressing that "next blog" button.

I've had a rollercoaster day. . . if rollercoasters just stayed down all of the time. No details. I tried that already and it became a diatribe with a language problem many times over. But I tried to solve it. I tried to solve it by going to Vermillion Skies to get a Dr. Pepper creamosa. And no, I don't know exactly what that is. A drink with Dr. Pepper and whipped topping and. . . something. Ice.

Anyway, I went there after picking up a video for tomorrow's class and Red (the girl who owns/runs the place) told me that they're closing down. Friday will be their last day. The place flooded and the rent is too high and. . . something.

So I stood there, thinking about HMP and K and Kapka and me sitting in uncomfortable chairs at a wobbly table, even though there were couches for the taking, because it was more academic or something. Getting up to point out details in the artwork, sitting back down to read a poem. HMP starting a tab. K using his tab. The damn gummy worms. And I kept wishing that it was last year all over again. I know I romanticize it too much. Life was a downhill rollercoaster then too. But still, there was something there. At the very least there was something in me that's gone now. I feel empty. Empty and alone.

I snapped out of my thoughts and ordered my Dr. Pepper creamosa. The soda machine was down--no Dr. Pepper. She suggested a hazlenut instead. I had this vague memory tugging the back of my mind. . . he tried it. . . I don't think he liked it.

I got the hazlenut. It's not bad.

And I left a tip.


Master Fob said...

You'll never get search engine hits without naked women.

And, though I've only been there once, I will mourn the passing of Vermillion Skies vicariously for all my friends who seem to go there at least nine times a week. :(

ambrosia ananas said...

YOu know, I've found the best and worst thing about relationships is that eventually, 98 percent of them stop mattering.

VS--Yeah. I felt cheated to learn of its closing, even though I've not been there in over a month and I hate the furnishings. I've fond memories of the place. (My fondest memory is, of course, of the time it was closed but the door was unlocked, so we went in and played games while waiting for Traviesa to call Red and ask her if she really wanted the store unlocked while she was in AZ.)

Special K said...

I think that it was almond, actually. And vanilla.

I loved that damn tab.

Thirdmango said...

I know how you feel, I'm pretty much at the bottom of my rollercoaster right now. But I'm not particularlly depressed, more so just empty and void. In a life where friends seem to appear and dissappear, and reappear and all that nonsense. It's all very odd now.

KapkaVictim said...

Wordsworth, whom I don't usually recommend says something in "Intimations of Immortality" I like:
"What though the radiance which was once so bright

be now for ever taken from my sight

though nothing can bring back the hour
of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower

we will grieve not, rather find

strength in what remains behind."

And he was talking about his lost of ability to commune with nature. Still, the part about being in the grass reminds me of Dr. Foster's class outside and making grass knots and toys.

A. Allen said...


i love you very much and am sad when you are sad, so dont be sad. and i am so happy you are blogging because your blogs are wonderful as are your reviews of DC


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