He Who Is No More

There's a grain of sand in my right eye that I haven't been able to dislodge either by immersing my eye in water and blinking or by crying. (It felt good to cry though)

Tumbles of thoughts. Some funny; some romantic, some just dreams that were built on real emotions; some memories that have staying power because they're based in a reality. We saw Randy yesterday. The doctors have asked for visitors to stop at this time because of concerns with his vitals while there. I know him... he wants information and he wants to be able to talk to them and he wants all of the tubes running in & out to be yanked from him. He wants a drink, a cigarette and a "lil sumthin' sumthin'" (I can hear him say.) I'm not strong enough to write more now.

The beach performed most of its usual healing powers on me today. I floated out past where the waves were breaking and stared into a sky with kites and birds. Listening to my own breathing as the waves covered my ears, I thought of my grandmother dispersed out among the tiny particles all around me. I just want to feel her warmth right now. I wished that Tyler could have given it to me, but he needs his strength and I would be taking too much. Mario and Alex are these seemingly mythical beings that I keep around but wisdom has already dictated distance. When I'm with my friends I am in a mind frame where I feel a warmth that keeps me running, but it doesn't fuel me. They are wonderful people, but I still long for those moments of safety found in a single kiss. It's sometimes weird around Eddy because of such shared seconds. Nick and Joseph were at the house last night and I had that same sensation or strangeness, but not as strange as it would be around Jorge right now. I sometimes think that a clean slate is all I need, because memories make appeals that cannot always be accommodated.

Dry dry skin.
Eye still irritated.
No more tears to give.