Weeks used to pass like days in Madison. Every hour was precious, a mouthful of water in an endless white desert--all of the sudden ending in an oasis. Free time as far as the eye could see. It is the endlessness of the Dreamtime here. Beasts graze and lounge through memories, events distilled on fingertips and lips that pool across the hot but comforting winds. And just as the oasis had appeared, I found someone old and new in the same person; someone old in the sense that she was a friend I occasionally spoke to; someone new in that, after truly getting to know her one night, we found a sweet, bright correspondence. It was--is effortlessly wonderful, and she helped me in spirit and voice through everything I will tell you. We�ll call her Sylph.
So, the beginning of the vacation played out like this:
The first few days were like the shock of ice-cold water. Everything familiar was suddenly gone, but replaced with a new sort of freedom that fit like old unwashed jeans. I smiled at it all, loving the indulgence of nothing in the 3 days before traveling to Detroit. I had bought a computer game to occupy my mind and time, and even now I see part of the world through its prism, wanting to go back and indulge the darker things in life. Some of those things are already here, but I�d be getting ahead of myself if I penned them here.
It�s better to talk about the generalities of the last week, interspersed with some of the things I can specifically remember.
Detroit: The First Few Days
The trip up here was simple and straightforward. The only thing that continuously pissed me off was how many toll-roads there were going to Chicago. Illinois is permanently on my shit list for making me stop not one, not two, but SEVEN TIMES to pay a toll. I appreciate that highways need to be maintained, but it was utterly fucking ridiculous. I said as much to the change collection machines and my windshield. I came into Detroit at the slightly dead of night, before midnight on Christmas Eve. It wasn�t Dickensonian with frilly semen streams bursting out of some nostalgic literary masturbation. It was just ice, and snow, and iced, snowy roads while I tried playing �eye-spy� with barely visible street signs. My windshield was frosted over to boot, and 6 hours of freeway grime just wouldn�t give up the ghost. The gods of the road were amused.
I also hadn�t had food since around noon that day. I had waited because Nicholas mentioned getting something to eat at a diner. I ended up getting Burger King after finding nearly everything else closed. The wait-staff there were kids, entertaining the teenage vibrations of making merriment and not my food. Apparently some chick behind me was rattling off a crazy order. This sent them into fits of giggles and conspiratorial talking, including the woman taking Crazy Chick�s order. I accepted my coke and drove off with amused disgust. I also got stuck in my first snow bank--in the parking lot. The food helped to make that part funny.
My first destination was Nicholas� Mom�s apartment. His now ex-boyfriend, �Asshole�, had ruined their shared house, taken Nick�s dogs, scared away at least one of the terrified cats into a corner of the disgusting basement, and flew like a bat out of Hell into the waiting anus of some night creature to make his lair. For all those various reasons, Nick had just gotten back on his feet. For other reasons, he�d also acquired an apartment but hadn�t had a chance to move in much stuff. Three words: hospitals fucking suck. Having split part of my skull open at the tender age of something and waiting hours for stitches, I can attest and preach to that shit.
I�d met Nick�s mom before. She was the older liberal sort, calm and composed with a genial manner, playing solitaire while watching cable news or documentaries. I could relate. The first few days at her place were spent getting situated, buying some shit I�d forgotten, watching this or that David Lynch movie, and just chillin�. I�d talk to Sylph in the evenings or early mornings for hours. We grew closer together and I found, by large and little steps, that I�d found someone I love, someone I could rely on. She was putting in as much faith and work as I was--and you bet your ass I was thankful I�d found a woman instead of another lost girl.
