It all comes and goes in waves. For ex how the word avatar starts popping up all over the dial; wearing Vamp nail polish for years, then not; certain memories:
Wide shot, Hollywood Hills afternoon nine years ago: glittering throngs lounge throughout phat garden of phat house of soon-to-drop-dead young film director - officially of a heart attack, off the record of an OD.
Zoom in on white-maned old man in cream linen on phat couch by phat swimming pool. I cross the entire set, sit next to him and yes, he's the real McCoy. An authentic living piece of the seventh art, my passion. Not to mention rock and roll, and television, and and and. Magnificent.
He'll reveal: "I saw you coming that day. You were really something."
I'll admit: "No clue why I dared walk up to you."
He'll reply: "It's cuz I'm the real McCoy and you're a natural, kid."
Cut to the present, Buenos Aires, in which these friends are reprimanding me: You Really Should Live Alone Stef!! Their disapproving little faces but they're not alone, they mess around with fucked-up boyfriends, more or less unreliable lovers; have never set foot outside this town, which they share with their sisters, mothers, college pals.
Wanting to scream I've Never Been More Alone In My Life but it's no use and all of a sudden I miss, miss, miss my bitch sisters overseas (where? losangelesromenewyorkberlin) and it's shocking:
I thought this feeling was gone for good but no, here it is, hello darkness my old friend, intact, violent like the very first day. They come and go in waves throughout the years: words, passions, habits, memories, people, and right as I finish writing this post the following hits my inbox:
I always think of u when I pass this store. Xoxo
It's my bitch sister in LA, via Blackberry. We haven't seen each other in nine years.