Nicole and Bex called me from a mariner pub in London . . . I actually went to that pub with Nicole when I was in London back in May. They told me they were carving stamps out of rubber and I asked for proof, which I promptly received doubly. To be honest, I desperately needed someone to call me on the phone, such is my loneliness, so it was a nice thing. And two for the price of one! I only wish I had been there with them . . . well, I reckon I was in some ghostly sense~

tis true (i was also baked lol)

i’ll say it again:

you do me wrong to take me out o’ th’ grave. thou art a soul in bliss, but i am bound upon a wheel of fire, that my own tears do scald like molten lead!!! lol

every time i stumble upon this in my phone again, it makes me really happy

Isabella and Sean came and got Gego yesterday . . . as soon as they came into my apartment, he meowed and then ran under my bed and hid. He didn’t want to leave! Isabella and Sean hung around and we all talked for an hour, by which point he had still not come out . . . so I had to lift up my mattress and grab him from beneath my bed. When I pulled him out, he clung to my chest. Sean took these pictures of young Gego and me before I sadly relinquished him to his mother’s open arms. Once inside his carrier, we unzipped the top and I pet him and gave him a kiss on the head. I said, “Goodbye, my sweet baby child. I love you.” The little family descended the stairs and were gone.

I have watched Gego four or five times now, and every time he leaves I feel empty as hell again. I like having the little dude around. It feels like hanging out with your little brother. This is also the first time in my entire life I haven’t had a cat of my own . . . a week of watching Gego always reminds me that having a cat in my house is essential to my not going completely insane. I have to be around them! I don’t know, it gives me purpose. It forces me to take care of myself so that I am in good enough shape to take care of them. Otherwise I just end up turning into the redundant subterranean thing I am now.

Last summer a ladybug landed on my laundry which was drying on a rack on my balcony. I had never seen a black ladybug with red spots before . . . an inverted ladybug! I managed to take a picture before she flew off.

And then yesterday, I saw Gego swatting at something on my floor. I turned on the light and found a little orange ladybug with white spots, which I had also never seen before. I scooped her onto an envelope and took her out to my balcony. I placed her on one of my flowers there. She was moving around pretty quickly so I couldn’t get her into focus for long, but I did my best:

Apparently these little beetles are native to Europe and Asia and over here they’re called orange ladybirds. They’re very beautiful. I’m glad I was able to save this one from Gego’s wrath.

i’ve never seen a cat just sit there and watch a movie like this before. gego is fully invested. we’ve watched entire movies together several times now

I received a postcard in the mail from my good friend Molly, who I think sends me more things in the mail than anyone else. This one came from the Badlands in South Dakota, where she was passing through, and upon it is writ ‘A Cowboy’s Prayer’ which, according to Molly, is so bad it’s good . . . just like me!

A Cowboy’s Prayer
(Written for Mother)

Oh Lord, I’ve never lived where churches grow.
I love creation better as it stood
That day You finished it so long ago
And looked upon Your work and called it good.
I know that others find You in the light
That’s sifted down through tinted window panes,
And yet I seem to feel You near tonight
In this dim, quiet starlight on the plains.

I thank You, Lord, that I am placed so well,
That You have made my freedom so complete;
That I’m no slave of whistle, clock or bell,
Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.
Just let me live my life as I’ve begun
And give me work that’s open to the sky;
Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,
And I won’t ask a life that’s soft or high.

Let me be easy on the man that’s down;
Let me be square and generous with all.
I’m careless sometimes, Lord, when I’m in town,
But never let ’em say I’m mean or small!
Make me as big and open as the plains,
As honest as the hawse between my knees,
Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,
Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!

Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget.
You know about the reasons that are hid.
You understand the things that gall and fret;
You know me better than my mother did.
Just keep an eye on all that’s done and said
And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,
And guide me on the long, dim, trail ahead
That stretches upward toward the Great Divide.

Hey man, I can dig it . . .

I have placed Molly’s postcard atop my books where I keep a Polaroid of Gego the cat and a vinyl copy of the soundtrack to ANY WHICH WAY YOU CAN (a movie (sequel!) where Clint Eastwood’s best friend is an orangutan named Clyde), which my friend Tombo found at a yard sale here in Berlin of all places. Listen: this is all to say that I treasure the thing. Molly is one of the best people I’ve ever met . . . she’s the brass ring. And bless her heart, she always remembers me. It is a good feeling to be remembered. Try it out sometime!

Molly asks me in the postcard if I will come visit her and her cat Bernie in Portland. I’m going to be cat-sitting in Seattle this fall, and so I have told her that I will see them when I pass through town on my way up north. If there’s a best time of the year to visit Portland, it’s got to be in the fall. And I can think of no better reason to visit than to see my good friend Molly. I’m just lucky to know her is all.

There are times when I get really down on myself over the disastrous decision I made almost a decade ago to leave Oakland and move to Portland. I was only there for a year, but it was an awful year, one of the worst, and had I remained with Tracey and Laura in our house in North Oakland rather than moving there, a massive portion of my life would have gone differently, and I would have saved myself a ton of trouble. It seriously nearly killed me. And yet, there were a few people I befriended there in Portland who became and have remained huge parts of my life so much so that they are essential to me now and I cannot imagine my life without them in it. Molly is one of those people. I would be incomplete without her friendship. And so saying, the godawful nightmare I endured in that city was worth all the blood and tears I shed because it all led me to her. Wow! Thanks for everything, Molly. I love you and I’ll see you and Bernie soon~