half past forever

waking up to that smiling, to a face close to mine, to a million dreams 
intertwined in a single second, this minute of walking on the clouds and 
sitting on air...going somewhere past forever and i keep expecting his 
face to disappear into the fog, for him to go back to the heaven from 
which he came, for every single hint of the dream of these past six months 
to simply fade and vanish and be lifted and gone and no hint of it on my 
face and only the stain of memory left...but it's half past forever, and 
he's still here, still dancing in my corridors, still dreaming me in 
circles...wonderful. wonderness. the moments when alice and all of her 
nonsense knows that it is indeed the luckiest thing living, the luckiest 
thing loving, all tucked under eating rainbow ice cream and watching the 
songs escape down the fire pole and we take a hatchet to the bad ones and 
pave the road for the good. it's only beginning, it's just started, tam 
and his infinite love, he has so much to give...and there, here, troubled 
souls searching for the light that his him sometimes, that is me others, 
that is you across the waterfall when you believe...the reluctant messiah? 
perhaps...he certainly fits all the descriptions, anyway, and there must 
be some reason why everyone thinks he looks like jesus when both you and i 
know better...

i do understand. here, in the small cubbyhole of truth that i collect, 
here in tendrils, here in crimson, here the day after forever with all of 
it so crisp and clear and still cooking on my mind, on that first eye 
right out front... half-baked thoughts in the oven, pull them out, 
everyone can smell it...wonderous chocolate chip and cookie dough and all 
of the everythings and the everyones that make tam tam and me me and you 
you...i could get really philosophical about it all, but i won't, because 
it's silly...life just is, and that's all that's important, and there are 
no mysteries to figure out, no problems to solve, no wondering if and 
might have's and couldn'ts...nothing like that at all. it's just me. here 
in the grass, looking up at the clouds painting huge fiasco paintings on 
the roof of the sky in titanium white (and then we'll put a few happy 
little clouds over there...) me, with a wild cherry pepsi in the mornings, 
typing away at the keyboard in front down under, when he walks in with his 
ponytail and his sleepy eyes, with little lips and kisses and happy 
thoughts underneath all that trudging around through the muck of school 
and the sludge of work...still dirty snowballs often turn into comets, if 
you put them in the right light, or bring them too close to the sun, just 
for the heck of it, just to see what might happen...and that's all you got 
to do, with the apple-a-day syndrome, and sugar makes everything better, 
and everyone can do neat things with their teeth, like hang upside down, 
like pulling lobster meat out of the shell and trying so hard to look 
elegant and beautiful and only being silly and delightfully cute...manners 
are for barbarians anyway, we cinderella girls always knew that...there's 
the wind, and the girl all dressed in orange with the short hair flying 
kites in the football field, and there's alice wet from the shower 
scurrying around as her hair curls under and over and refuses to 
relent...there's tam, falling asleep to his crazy management homework book 
which promises and swears that managers are logical...but i don't believe 
it, not a word, not a syllable...and there are songs, so many songs 
playing through my cochlea and bouncing off my eardrum and spinning around 
doing circles in my head, in one eye and out the other, burrowing like 
little insects and they keep humming, over and over...i know how far it is 
to the ocean and once day i'll go back, yes, one day i'll finally dance in 
the sand again, barefoot...but for now, i am here, and no where else can i 
be, or should i be, but here, in the morning, with half a million souls 
scurrying across campus from class to class, and his one of them.

and i do understand, so much right now, more than he'll ever know, or 
dream, or think i do, or might, or can possibly...and yes and yes alice 
makes mistakes and doesn't everybody? that's just part of being who we 
are, it's still perfect and the way it should be... i understand that 
understanding is no where near as important as the world seems to think it 
is, that one can best understand when one simply stops trying, that 
everything that tam says is right and true and there is no hiding, no 
malice, and no games, except that which he plays with himself, and that 
which the rest of the world corners him into...he loves, the pure kind of 
love that can never die, that doesn't discriminate, which is completely 
loyal and unconditional, and trusting and true, comprehension of it lost 
and muddled and sealed with jealousy and hate by those who wish and want 
and never can, never touch, are still half a world away and divided by 
elipses and dotted lines...he is there. he is there now and he will be 
forever, for now is forever, and that's all there is. simplicity and 
stretched out like little kitten jaws and fur, alice blinking her eyes to 
the morning knowing she will never be alone, not really, and only if she 
wants to, and even then not entirely, there is no escape, no reason, no 
rhyme nor logic, it just is...no configurations, conglamourations, 
programming, dissecting, definitions... it just is, in defiance of 
everything else, of everything you know...he exists and i exist and life 
exists and i can feel and nothing could be more important than that in 
this entire universe, being able to feel texture and shape, being able to 
feel love and peace, just happy and curled up in front of the fireplace 
and at the feet of wonderland...ready to jump through the flames, jack be 
nimble, jack be quick...why go looking for adventure when everything i 
could ever want or need is simply here? adventure will find me, if i want 
it...and so will love. and life. and happiness...

existance is bliss.

(and i still think it's all because of apples.)