Now I'll die and I'll tell you: what? The biggest regret of my life: I let my love go ...There was this time when I was in Los Angeles, and it was very early, and I was up, because it was still early in the trip, and the time in my mind hadn't changed yet, not that it did, not that it has from when it did, and I was driving on the east side, down Los Feliz Boulevard, a street named for the Happy People, I believe, and the mist was real low, and I was crying, because I thought, Fuck, why did I ever leave?, and that right there was when I regretted everything, everything that came after, the leaving, the flooding, and the fucked up years, and all the time I wasted, and the chronic inabilities, and the fleeting moments in between when things are good, and then the shade closes, and everything is back to black, or so it seems.
Here, I climb the walls, I want to get out, but indecision and something else stop me. Somebody says, You'll figure it out, you always do, but it seems like it's taking forever to happen, so I keep looking at the photographs that I took there, and I keep rewatching the things that I saw there, and I try and tell myself that I'm not stuck, even though when I look down, all I see is my feet in quicksand, and there are my hands climbing across the ceiling.
I had an idea a few weeks ago, and it's maybe the best idea I've had in a while, only, it's not even new, it's old. It's an idea that I had years ago, that I forgot about, that resurrected itself in my head when I was lying on a table. It would take a year, which I can do; I did the Letters Project for that long. It would take place during 2010. It would be something different, and the exact same thing, and whatever it is that lies in between.
Do you ever have that feeling like you can't stand it one more day? When you've envisioned yourself climbing the walls so many times that you think today may be the day that you actually try it?
A long time ago, I remember, I was on a plane, and it was landing in this place that was like the jungle to me, and there was a time before that, where the plane was like a firefly, circling down in the night sky after all the others, and maybe there was a time before that, in some random dream I no longer remember, or maybe it's a memory piped backwards from the future, and I'm going there, and the only thing I can hear in my head is: This will make everything better, this will make everything else fade.
