Wednesday, May 6, 2009

loitering with rain clouds

I start my day with the traces of my neighbor packed in boxes settled on the ground outside. She's heading east on the Mit, hanging in A2 for a while. So, we drink our coffee cheers-ing the past two years of porch time and circles, local music and fried brownies. Distance not far, we know we'll see each other soon enough, no goodbyes but see you later as we hug our experiences and start our days.

The day pearls under humid clouds, my thoughts trail to the storm suckled under wind as I head inside to get the next batch of laundry, another shelf dusted. I list my day, things I want to get done, no moving for me today. I decide I'd rather be outside loitering with the rain clouds growing, so I head to the coffee shop.

There is nothing like an Italian almond to lighten the mood, I text my gyrlfriend who sends me smushes and love to make me feel better. I myface and chat with other interlopers at the coffee shop and head to the bookstore. I can buy postage there to send out my rent payment. A friend's gyrlfriend takes my cents while she introduces us finally. I thank her for putting my panties in her mailbox that were left in her gyrlfriend's car. Um, no its not like that! She and I joke about the panties purchased for my own gyrlfriend left in the bag in her gyrlfriend's car and then she tells me I ring good in the ears of our circles. I smile and head outside into the storm enclosing the horizon, I feel held by the rising humidity in the air.

I head to the activist space to use the computer. I want to write my mother as our last interaction crowds my own horizon. Its been days now of suckled thought, hurting like a punched gut. I've been waiting for the sting to dissipate only to watch it grow into this thunderstorm brewing not ready to break. Its not the gay thing hurting me. I can handle a momma whose dealing with gay fear. Fear is like a virus, it infects everything. The best cure is nurturing the immune system, building antibodies to push the infection out. Nurture my Mother in her fear, hell yeah. My hurt with my Mother feels more insidious then that. This isn't the first time my mother told me to go be invisible. Invisible. Not worthy to be there. Callously dismissed and for my mother as a punishment for hurting her. ME Gay = hurt Momma. The problem is, I've done nothing wrong. There is nothing I can apologize for. I wouldn't want to anyway. Ah, but I find myself writing a post to procrastinate the subject, so I decide to head outside and hang with the storm clouds...

~gg