graveyard_of_memories Phoenix We talked in the car until 1:30. Under the stars, watching the storm in the distance and listening to the crickets, frogs and ciccadas singing their symphony as they do every night. We talked about everything. The people who hurt us, the people we've loved and began to search the lives we once had. "I've had a safe place every where I've lived but here. I just can't find that place where I breathe" I mused in the dark. You asked me where all my places had been and slowly I began the list. The island in the middle of the river. You had to swim to get out there, but for some reason, James and Adam could always find me there. The parking garage downtown - above all that noise and stress. Where emotion was more fluid. "I could always find you there. Even after you left, I would go there and you'd be there." Everytime I go home, I search for that 15, 16, 17 year old girl. Uncomplicated and optimistic. Unfettered by all the stupid worries that come with adulthood and undamaged by the dark underbelly that seeks us all out. I've never seen her. I go home and look for a sign that I once existed there and have never found it. The only place I may have existed, is my mother's home, and even there my things are in boxes in an attic and my first home, her womb lies at the bottom of a biohazard wastebasket. I close my eyes and retreat to the place in my mind I've created. It used to be a safe place, but the structure is crumbling. I look at this graveyard of memories - reminiscent of a fairground after everyone has packed up and left - and wonder... what wonderful thing must have happened here? 080727 ... unhinged youngstown y_town 080727 ... Lia just to BE is often the most difficult thing in the world. 080727 ... unhinged unhinged_frankless photographic_memory memories, by their nature, are graveyards 100824 what's it to you? who go blather from