penny

Tucson AZ

Description

A silly old moniker, penned by me. I wonder if you are still there (Tucson), doing what you do (drugs), (but hopefully less of them), and writing small films. I would hope you are taking good care of yourself. Memories appear when they are most unexpected, don't they– it feels like stepping on a nail, or piercing yourself with a pin while sewing– I feel weakened or set back every time I remember something, or someone– corny as it really is, even songs set me back, and I can never stand against them. Why do I think of you when I hear Mother of Pearl? Or Farewell Transmission, but I guess that makes sense, you played it all the time. For some reason I wanted to tell you I got out of that small town. Most of me did not survive that experience but I'm far away now. Birds really do sing a pretty song here, and flowers grow without human nurturing. I remember fondly my time with you. The last five years have been darker and darker– but walking on ghost roads, hemming a Romeo shirt for you, talking over Oscars acceptance speeches, and sweating through Midnight Cowboy– those are nice memories. And I wanted you to know that I am sorry if I was clumsy, unfair, or ungraceful to you. You know I never meant to be that way. Warm regards from a far away lodge, I.B.