we wait...

4 our luck to change 

4 them to text us back 

4 the rain that will cleanse our soul 

4 inspiration when we have none 

4 that ancient laughter we once shared 

4 that immaculate silence 

2 feel something truly penetrate us 

4 something we cannot get over 

2 get over it

#katyamills

slow

Slow falls like snow. Not pelting just touching and melting. Slow is not weak or worthless or lazy or wasteful. Slow is not what they say in our fast culture USA. Slow takes the time to truly understand. Is seen and sees. Patience. The world doesn't know what it wants.

a deepening

if you wait in the least comfortable place you may let yourself into an inner door of a greater force and inspiration, well, i just experimented myself and got there and how did it happen? Okay, first ingredient was the new moon. I have apparently been wrong again! in my awaiting the full moon, investing too fully in the symbol of the full moon and nothing else for a return on my energies. This is what happens when one is pulled at by so many angles you lose yourself and collective archetypes begin to pronounce themselves to you... so you go for a really hard exercise (in my case an 8mile run followed by a 1mile walk yesterday) which takes you out of your mind and into your body. then you get some uneven sleep chopped up by the trend of cats in motion and a subtle but heavy rumbling through the walls (the inhabitants of adjacent apartments). then you get up after midnight and heat the coffee and milk on the stove and walk around feeling the dull aches and pains in the body, softened by slippers on the feet. the pain is all further softened by cereal followed by a whole thermos of coffee taken slowly over time in capfuls. the sounds you allow are windchimes and passing trains and autos in the night, and voices and laughter of late nighters, all through cracked windows, and inside its gotta be either silence or kitchen humming and a low volume atmosphere of local public radio - classical. jazz is not to be discounted, but jazz is better for winter, classical for summer to counter the general liveliness. I tried a firm chair in the back room with the laptop on a small glass table. Had a capful and bantered with the cats. Stepped outside on back and front porches between times of writing or reading or thinking. Delta breeze in effect tonight. I was several times convinced I would need to go back to bed to restore energy. But these thoughts make no sense. I am nothing if not well rested! For several months now! Last year this time it was quite the opposite, or two years ago, when I was much more invested in coffee and perhaps a whole pot a day versus today less than half a pot a day and much easier on the nerves. At any rate, this was the semblance of my condition about three hours into my new day at night, a dull suffering through a lull period alone, when scanning a cell phone article about a famed spanish director who just cut a film loosely based on a famed canadian author's short stories, i suddenly felt my energy congratulate me with a shift and i stepped down into the dark of my backyard (seeking lightly the one cat whose always out and about hunting), and saw the new light from the apartment building across Eggplant alley which was always there but now the entire building presents itself to me on one flank, for the tree removal people took down the side of trees for some reason last week and what took so many years to hide, is suddenly bare and exposed forever. And I thought in an passionate way about a dispassionate subject of renting a home, well, how many little spaces with aircon units jutting out in little boxes, how many little nooks and crannies there are in this and any city! That if you set your heart on a little space, man or woman, you may seek and find your very own! For there are so many even right here within a hundred yards radius of my own! And this was a happy thought which followed and follows with more and more inspired and happy thoughts, and I certainly would have laughed in your face two hours ago when I woke up sore and wondering, had you told me then that several inspired happy thoughts would come my way and brighten up these new moon days of crescending energies, and they have. they truly have.

Journal #05.03.15

Morning. I dreamt I had stolen a taxi, and the car was solid white. The driver had left it running. He was by the curb arguing with someone. I just got in like it was mine and drove away. I began to feel the freedom in the city. The numbers were increasing, and it made me uncomfortable. I pulled over to try and stop the fare from running. I didn't have that kind of cash. A lady stepped off the curb and opened the back door unexpectedly. Two kids, a boy and a girl, plopped into the back seat and said goodbye to mom. She shut the door. Now I had two kids on my hands, and a stolen cab. Am I supposed to take you to school? I asked. They said yes. The girl scooted up and grabbed the headrest in front of her, and pulled close to take a look at me. By her eyelashes I could tell she was single digits in age. They weren't long enough to be ten. Can we go to the movies? she asked, slanting her head sideways. Can we? The boy chimed in, pulling up on my headrest. Can we, can we, can we? They cried. Oh how could I resist two beautiful irritants tugging at me like that? We pulled out into the morning commute, joining the river of traffic. When we got to the cinema, the line was a half mile long, winding up and around and around to the theatre. We stood in line and waited, and waited some more. What a dream, no better than real life? I felt somewhat cheated. By the time we got to the theater, we realized we had no tickets. They turned us away, and we began our dejected descent. Then the girl, who had told me many stories so I knew her like a daughter, began batting her juvenile lashes and tugging at my hand. There was an dark opening to our left, with blue cinema light behind it. Let's go! 

Journal. Midvernal

I waited for her and had been waiting for her all along
screaming PLEASE
when the afternoon she ascended the stairs
and knocked on my door
with a peachy red flower
and a peachy keen smile
for little me and time stopped
in my bedraggled bedhead woken midvernal night dream

I will always wait for her though nothing is needed anymore between us
All is sunshine and bonus from here
You can only do someone wrong for so long, and they you

 If you still yearn for one another silently...
        if you still contrast with one another violently...
                   if you still discern one another sensationally...

maybe there's a chance
   maybe if we believe
 maybe if we leave tomorrow -4- tomorrow

for the moon rolls over the sun
and the sun rolls over the earth
and the earth rolls over the sky

maybe there's a chance for us
to light up the night
let the memories die

enveloped in media glaze -iv

Ghost train slides down
the wet rails
up the coast
California

i heard its rumble
i saw its dreary cars
burdened by a sagging
economy

patience has run out on itself
life becomes the wait so
everything is now
again

there i am being
grinding my teeth. waiting 
nerves frayed
at both ends. turbulent
like each and every loss of each and every one of my friends
my gems


love got conditional on us. fast
for sures into maybes
impending silence...

vast

i listen to the rain
and

in each drop
i am
ecstatic