novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- hol-lay-loo-lah visiting my parents and ventura will always feel like opening a non-archived time capsule. my mother likes to point out my personality flaws to friends and relatives in joke form, right in front of me. i don't think i'll ever know if she does this consciously. my father is an unpleasant man whose sense of humor slipped through his liver so many years ago with one of his first thousand gallons of wine. how uncomfortable to be here and to recognize my more annoying personality traits, clearly identifiable and much more potent in my parents. i guess even if you know something is useless, you grow up and use it anyway, because that's all you know. the panic, the fear, the hopeless dreams, the loud voices, the interruption, the wayward wandering and oh the dust. nothing is ever clean here. run a gloved finger across a shelf or a found armrest, and with that dust you will pick up dog hairs and armloads of love: strangely-formed, decades old, loyal. 12:25 pm - 11.30.02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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