melvina

the dream, the last one. of course i know what it means, of course, jules. this one is not blind.

escape, escape for beck and i. our freedom comes. ourselves we will reinvent. resurface. we can be the three again, with one just far, far away. at least beck and i can continue together. and our escape. it will be fruitful and a success. (put in a good word.)

as say the cards and i believe in things in threes although i shall not tell you what the third party may be. my secret. discretion. but i will say. trustworthy. (i have. a small amount of hope. imagine that.)

i have been moving, this day and the last and also will be tomorrow. i loathe 8am. but when it means getting out of this infested shithole, i will do almost any thing. perhaps, anything. i yearn to remember my own silence. jules'. and the silence of the ones underneath me and the ones burning across the way.

i wait for ghosts. in the dead hours. there, i will be free to hear it all again, instead of pushing all away.

i can move my fingers across the pages of.all.my.books.and.take.a.deep.breath.

i.am.free.

i can lie naked in the middle of my living room, if i please and walk from room to room in nothing but a lamp shade as a hat. just. because i can. i can do any thing. and jules... she watches.

and speaking of. beck, you do recall. THE ANNOYANCE OF THE GODS.

(long, thunderous silence.)

mr. ingle found it at school and it took him three periods to read through it. you know. middle school. way.back.when. good GOD. and hear, now. he wants to publish it.

i cackle.

i swoon.

i am manic over the thought of such being published in some thing, anything. as long as it's HERS. and as long as it's the motherfucking ANNOYANCE OF THE GODS.

tell me if you do not agree.

(for more explaination of THE ANNOYANCE OF THE GODS, please remind me some time and i might even get it online. it's just too grand not to share. details, later, with more time.)

so now, i must go with the promise of a hot bath and a bowl or five, to fall asleep and maybe dream the sort of dreams we all want beck.

the jesus rat and julia

(so shall it be.)