awake again
i hang in silence
breath, heartbeat.
the gauzy light of dawn
like a murky curtain
over a sleepless night.

they are quiet now, settling into
a new sphere of darkness,
one with the rectitude of an oak tree,
the other with his mirror and his illusion:
those two who passed through our lives
chiseling time, untangling, opening
furrows, trailing the just word,
the bread of the word every day.

(Even if they didn't have the time to grow tired,
now quiet and finally solemn,
they enter, pressed together, the vast silence
that will slowly grind down their frames.)

Tears were never invented
for those men.

And our words
sound as hollow as a new tomb
in which our footsteps sound out of key,
while they remain there alone,
naturally, as they existed.

-Pablo Neruda

the scent of air before it snows
and gasoline
hang heavy in the night
dark, inky, starless night
dreamless, restless, endless night.
lurid and damp
the sky is ashen
like a toothache;
dull, and irritating.
the clouds
covert in the darkness
are palpably irriguous.
this night is grim.
this bitter, biting, frigid night.

my room is messy again.

is it categorically impossible for me to keep it clean? because i swear i clean it and a minute- not joking, sixty seconds later- i have made it messy again. somehow i find some new and creative way to destroy my room. maybe formerly there were clothes all over the chair and piled up the bed, so i'll put those away... but in my freshly cleaned room i'll decide that the best thing to do is obviously to sew. which means that now, my new-found free space is filled with fabric and all acoutremonts.

elissa elissa elissa, will you learn?

my life is never anything short of interesting. i have to say that i'm thankful to have an interesting life- it's never dull, it keeps things lively. so many strange... neat?.... interesting things going on in my life right now.

i'm listening to damien rice and watching the snow fall and create a soft coverlet over everything, cherishing the intimacy of my dark, warm room.

can i share this song? i love it: Etienne d'aout by Malajube

leopold is cleaning himself on my legs. cutes.

marcus, justin, and i made sangria tonight. then, i broke out the crafty self and had some fun.

ha!

justin (2:23:31 AM): i thought elissa was so funny at lunch today
justin (2:23:42 AM): do you ever pay attention to her eyebrows?
marcus (2:23:53 AM): no she was just plucking them though lol
justin (2:23:59 AM): she makes the funniest faces when shes thinking about stuff lol
marcus (2:24:03 AM): shes always cute n funny

band names are weird. the four i have in my recently added folder are iron & wine, kings of leon, the church, radical face. take it out of context.

it's been a mostly good day. my hair air dried whilst i was lying in bed, eating giant lemon heads- i mean, can it get better than that?

i feel irritated lately. i don't like being second guessed. i don't like feeling unappreciated.

there's a mountain of christmas gifts to wrap, a room to clean, cats to pet, a party to dress for, roommates to snuggle, laundry to finish, tepid tea to consume...

and the fire alarm on the third floor that's been beeping for three weeks might actually drive me to the brink of insanity. it might. why does it seem that i'm the only person in this apartment/house/building/world that likes to get shit done?
---

from said bands, favorite lines:

it is good in my lady's house/ every shape that her body makes/ love is a fragile word/ in the air on the length we lay (iron & wine)

sometimes when this place gets kinda empty, the sound of the breath fades with the light; I think about the loveless fascination under the milky way tonight(the church)

ships are launching from my chest
some have names but most do not
If you find one, please let me know what piece I've lost (radical face)

when I awoke, you were gone.
I thought of you watching me dream
eyelashes fanned across my cheeks
rosy and red from wine.


It was dark in my bed, warm
comfortable in the tick tock night
the passing cars
spinning their wheels
spitting rain water in their wake
It was comfortable. Dark, quiet.
Peace.


Sleep saved me
Salvation from awkward glances.
long silences.


I wanted to crawl away
into the wet November night.
Slither into oblivion
not return


now you’re on this night train home
is it wrong to hope I never see you again?

gifts

there i sat on my bed, a mere speck among a sea of gifts.

i'm over-gifting this year. i only really want to buy presents for my family, and boy, do i have a haul.

in the divine timing that he seems to have perfected, leopold sensed the exact moment at which each gift was in its most vulnerable state- between fold of paper and grasp for tape dispenser, after delicate crease- to sit on each present.

when my family wonders why the wrapping paper is a little worn and crinkled, why the penguins are a bit haggard on the outside of their parcels, i will only think to leopold. i wish he could be there on christmas morning- i can imagine his wide-eyed stare at the sea of paper, his frolick amid post present-opening bliss.

he's cuddling me now- perhaps this is why i speak so fondly?

it's raining, as usual.

My family is a strange bunch. I mean really. We're all strange.

In concentrated time frames and large numbers, it's truly intense, and I do fear the life and sanity of outsiders who enter into our ambit.

Right now, it's quiet house. Patrick has taken to his nightly ritual of big screen tv. marcus is editing a video. both cats are snoozing on my bed. for me it's tea and toast, how very (unpretentiously) british of me.

i just piled my toast plate onto my breakfast plate from this morning on my bed (don't judge me) (which has a habit of catching things in orbit in my room and temporarily homing them) and it disturbed the slumber of both cats. sorry, babies.

sometimes i forget to think about how stressful my day, week, moment is, and just watch people walk up and down my street in the thick, dark night. the cats breathing slowly- their bodies rising up and down. the cars, driving, directionless. bases pounding, windows fogged. the dark, hanging blanket of the sky, dappled with stars. the street lights casting eerie glows.

Wedding Thank Yous

Tonight I helped Mikki and Ezra write thank you cards for their wedding. Which was in July. What can I say, I'm a dedicated friend. Mostly, I was assigned to people they didn't know, who gave gifts but didn't come to the wedding. But writing is one of my specialties, especially card writing. I was all about putting a heartfelt, creative twist in my cards. Many of them read,

"Dear Rabbi and Mrs. Lifshitz,

Thank you so much for your generous gift. Ezra and I had a great time shopping for kitchen appliances with the gift card you gave us to Bloomingdales, as we love to shop and outfit our kitchen. We've recently come back from a beautiful and amazing honeymoon, and are settling into married life well. We couldn't be happier! We trust that everything is going well, and will see you at the next simcha. Sincerely, Mikki and Ezra"

right? pretty damn great.

what I really wanted to write was,

"Dear Mr. and Mrs. Fishburn,

Thank you so much for your generous gift. Ezra and I spent it on crack cocaine and pornography- money well spent, if we do say so ourselves. Love, Mik and Ez"

I don't know these people, mikki and ez don't know these people, they don't know them..

mostly, i was just bored writing thank yous. and monotony never hits me well. I tire easily of routine, and grow impatient quickly. And then, I find myself writing to little old jewish ladies and their husbands about how their generous $250 check went straight to funding my bad habits. 

ahh, c'est la vie