a · present · history · lesson · for · the · future

I talk to you as to a friend
I hope that's what you've come to be
It feels as though we've made amends
Like we found a way eventually

It was you who picked the pieces up
When I was a broken soul
And then glued me back together
Returned to me what others stole

I don't wanna hurt you
I don't wanna make you sway
Like I know I've done before
I will not do it anymore

I look at you and see a friend
I hope that's what you wanna be
Are we back now where it all began
Have you finally forgiven me?

You gathered my dreams in
When they all blew away
And then tricked them back into me...

There are some things we strive to understand and some that are just better left as is, with no explanation. Almost as if an explanation would reduce the senario to simple mechanics, robbing it of what 'life' it does have.

You're not following me, I know.

I saw someone I 'used to know' tonight and despite its awkward moments, I felt okay in my skin. We repeat the words 'we're not friends' as if that frees us of any responsibility at all. If we are not friends, we cannot hurt one another.

The truth is, no 'good' person ever really intends on hurting another. Hurt happens. Whether you're the inflicter or the inflicted. If you do not accept this as a part of life, you will more than likely walk around completely bitter and hateful. (I've been there, it's not pretty.)

I believe there are friendships that can transcend these 'hurts'. I didn't used to. But, last winter, I was surprised to find out that even the BIGGEST of blow outs can somehow melt themselves down, over time, and become water under the proverbial bridge. Sometimes an apology comes in a letter, sometimes a 4 hour tear jerking conversation over lunch at Whole Foods, sometimes in the trading of music, and sometimes, just... sometimes, it comes from someone trying to do the right thing. Try to take notice of that last one. It's hard to see sometimes, but it counts just as much.

There is nothing (you) cannot say to me. Friends or not - I believe when you really love someone, a good someone, you will not ever stop. Despite fights, hurts, silences, and awkwardness.

Good ol' Patty said, "everybody needs a little forgiveness...."

I've never known Patty to be wrong.

.ami.

People love to cough in quiet places. Have you ever noticed that? Coffee shops, doctors office (listen, I don't care if you're there because you're sick, cover it up and don't spread the wealth).. BUT the number 1 place to start a coughing fit is in CHURCH!

I go to a church in Hollywood that is more known for its quiet and peaceful atmosphere... and, without a doubt, every time that I go, there is always SOMEONE within very close proximity to me, who just cannot help but cough, in that "I have phlegm in my throat and MUST expound myself of it, this very instant!" sort of way.

Why.

...

WHY!?

Of course, I cannot / do not hide the fact that I am highly disturbed and offended by this behavior. I ALWAYS wear a scarf to church because I know that I am going to have to pull it up over my face at just the slight sound of a wheeze. Do these coughers notice? Of course, they must! But do they care?

Absolutely not.

The coughing will continue throughout mass and GOD forbid, they cover their mouths like their parents taught them.

I just don't understand. If I ever had to cough in church, I would stick my face right into my scarf and make sure it's contained and muffled. (remember when people carried handkerchiefs back in the day and coughed into them? what happened to that?)

I just had to say this. I mean... eventually... someone HAD to say this. If you are one of those who coughs in quiet places, please consider the germaphobes who might be "blending in" with the scenery. (you're taking years off of our lives with the stress you induce with your scratchy throats.)

I once discussed the issue of germs on the cup of communion with a fellow church go-er and what she said to me was, "Ami... have faith."

I have always understood "Faith" to be the belief in something you cannot see.

I cannot actually SEE the germs on that cup, or floating in the air around me, but I swear it to you, I know that they are there. I have FAITH that they are there. ;)


signing off, from a closed-off corner of Peet's Coffee (my home away from home),

.ami.

p.s. Just for the record: you CANNOT buy the bird flu masks at your local CVS - even though that SEEMS like an IDEAL place to sell them. However, you can pick a package up at your local Home Depot! But beware, if it's the Home Depot in Van Nuys, you might be acosted in the parking lot by hispanics with knives and half-eaten fruit. (If you do not know what I am talking about, you should refer to the blog about that very subject.)

p.p.s. It might be worth it to brave the knives and pick up a package - you never know when you're going to need it.

p.p.p.s. I am very much NOT kidding.

I take a lot of photographs. In fact, it's pretty rare that I walk out of the house without at least 1 of my 24 cameras.

However, I do not put them anywhere. My polaroids sit in a pile and I do not hang any of my work in my house.

Why do I even take pictures???

I am... a person slightly obsessed with words and communication.

I am a texter.

I am of the age of IM.

I lived through email.

I miss writing letters for the post.

...

However, these days, I often find myself retreating into silence over talking. I am not sure why. Some people's mouths run so far ahead of their brains, they can only watch each other's demise.

[I do not want to be separated from any part of me.]

Even here, I am just writing a bunch of letters that mean nothing.

What I mean to say is...

I miss the sky at night. I miss good all night long conversations. I miss not speaking... and that being alright.

but mostly...

I miss being able to get my point across.


watching it get lost between my fingers and your eyes,

.ami.

The sight of snow can take my breath away and make my heart skip at least one beat. I am not sure why. I didn't grow up in the snow. It isn't that I do not like the sun, on the contrary, I absolutely love summer nights under the stars...


but...


just something about the way the snow can still the scenery...


I think it might be the closest real life gets to a photograph.