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if only for today 24 September, 2006

Posted by silentpyjamas in blather and claptrap, chronicle of the crazy, pink city apartment.
1 comment so far

i am unafraid. that goes out to my brother. that’s all about that.

last night i had a dream that tied up a lot of dreams i have been having. i dream i am in a city. some parts of the city that are inhabited by scores of people in one dream, and in the next are practically empty. i am not sure yet if it is the same city with the pink apartment, so i am waiting. i’ve been having a surge in this series of dreams so i think that probably it is related. i will find out soon.

so i heard that these crazy thoughts i have about “other places” may be something called “delirious mania.” i’m not really able to find much information about it online, and what i have found is somewhat frightening. i am not going to worry much about it for now, since i already have an established rhythm and method for dealing with this. i’ll update when i get more of a clue about the city. there’s more to it but it’s 6am and i’m not thinking that clearly.

i found a super-awesome blog from someone who saw this same monkey show “romeo and juliet: a monkey’s tale” on animal planet. very strange documentary but pretty neat. check this blog out. it’s pretty sweet.

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the pink place 16 December, 2005

Posted by silentpyjamas in chronicle of the crazy, pink city apartment.
1 comment so far

well, i wasn’t up to much so i thought i’d talk about the pink place.  it’s another one of my “other places.”

the first time i went there was last october.  2 nights before i ended up on a 9-day hospital stint.  by the time i got to the hospital i was firmly entrenched in the water tower place, but the first night, it was the pink place.

it’s a nice apartment.  it’s not huge but it’s old.  it’s got character.  hardwood floors in part of the livingroom, the front of the apartment.  the carpet where the furniture and windows are is, of course, pink.

when i’m there i have a sort of josephine baker hairdo.  short with waves.  it’s pretty cool looking.  i found myself the first time there in a pink camisole with pink tap pants.  they’re like lingerie shorts.  the tap pants had black lace at the hems, the camisole had black lace at the top of the front.  very classy.  satin, if i had to guess.  they were soft and cool and buttery on my skin.  my nails were kind of long (again, something i’d never do.  i like my nails short, i have a guitar) and done in a french manicure.  the couches were antique-y looking with dark wood legs (yech, dark wood) and details on the back.  the fabric was, well, you know.

the apartment has tall windows facing other buildings in the city.  usually it’s night there.  sometimes it’s raining.  i always feel so lonely there.  i can remember having had guests over, but i can’t think of who they are.  when they were last over.  on a small writing desk against one of the giant windowpanes sits a pink antique-style typewriter.  as much as it pains me to say it, i think i had that typewriter painted pink.  the keys are the round metal kind on the long stalks.  pink enamel with white letters.  oh the tragedy.

i write there too.  sometimes i spend long hours looking out into the night at my desk, parked in front of the typewriter.  i love the sound it makes, much better than a computer when i am on a roll and i can hear the clacking of the mechanisms inside the machine.  letters appearing on the paper.  the “r” key is a little crooked.  for some reason i don’t care much.  it adds character, i think.

this place is really sort of new and i don’t know much about it yet.  i suppose i’ll find out more on one of my crazy trips.