new mexico. land of enchantment. land of green chiles and pomegranate trees in downtown albuquerque. apple orchards and sage brush. we don't drink water we drink whiskey. lost highway roadhouses reached by motorbike. mountain towns reclaimed by gypsies. circling crows on bosque trails while the rio grande trickles down to texas. thai food stewing in a ramshackle schoolbus on the mesa. everybody's madmaxen it. scavenging dumpsters for the flea market on saturday. land of manana. there is no schedule. there is no tomorrow. only right now and this sunset on the west mesa, bleaching out the bones. the ghost of georgia o'keefe. and this beer shared with other transgressors. easy riders. misfits and malcontents. mountain hikes in the pines, in the pines, that guard lithium-laced hot spring pools. chocolates left on the porch by some shaman, root vegetable-themed love letters left by some cowboy who showed you true beauty once in the desert, 7000 feet up, and below a glittering blanket of stars. the giant who kissed you while the three volcanoes hovered above. the lover who drew your bath and strummed his guitar after working you over as only an artist can. the unattainable one who showed up to say goodbye and nearly made it back to the front door before tearing off your panties one last time. the underage girl, full lips, full breasts in that hotel room. you promised, by way of whisper, to her so much that night then never returned her phone calls. sleeping in parks, sipping warm champagne just to feel alive. waking up in your party dress streaked with the blood from fingers cut scrambling over cemetery walls. something about the desert removes your decency. replaces the primal. returns the mystery. forsakes the modern. pretension be goddamned!
i want to go back. more than anything i want to go back and pick up the pieces of the self that i left shattered there. the shards i crept away from under the cover of night and with a stranger, no less.
till then i'm busted.
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there are myriad facets to this little gem. today, positivity and extroversion prevails. tomorrow, who knows?
i do a pretty good job of balancing it all out.
and those of you who commented are amazing. i love you all so goddamn much for the pat on the back.
thanks for letting me vent.
more pictures coming soon. crete trip postponed due to weather. next week. i've got all the time in the world.
love!
maggie
VIEW 23 of 23 COMMENTS
It hasn't really crept far away enough yet to fall into the "Don't go back to where you were" zone. In the immortal words of some guy whom I envision, for some reason a Yngwie Malmsteen zygote, So many things to do... So many things to be. Good things, I think, for you, having blossomed into an extraordinarily articulate young lady, and having so much awaiting. Been drained a bit, but you still have my multi-faceted support, as always. I'm at your service yet, young friend of mine.
You've no idea how refreshing it is to see your comment for me there-- still, as well as to see that your mind is so alive, in contrast to my confounded snow pea of a marinating brain. More than you can imagine, I appreciate you still being here for me, considering how long I've been absent.
But I've got a lot of shit going on, most of which I'd rather divulge when I've got the time to tell you.
One thing I'm quite sure of now, is that it's just as difficult, if not more, to flee the past and move on from shit after letting flap in the wind, as my habitual strategy usually dictates, than I had imagined.
I'll fill you in. And I'll look forward to the snotslinging version of your status update as well.... Can't wait, in fact, to hear from you. You know how it goes, maybe-- everything happens all at once, it seems. I guess things don't happen by themselves after all. At least that's what they've got me believing these days. It feels like I'm fighting everybody these days, but I always had a pretty strong suspicion of who it would be, at that lends me a little dignity. Maybe, they fought so hard to keep me the same so I'd be easier to control--- my noid self said so. So yeah, you've just got to make the move and let the consequences and results come rolling in at their own pace and timing. Weird shit, I'll tell you, lil' mama.
But they say you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take, right?
So I'm in the city now, train whistles blowing in the distance, interrupted by the occasional thump of subwoofers and shit that represents everything I despise ... Just listening to IranianRadio.com and dreaming again. In a different context now, though easily recognizable, I would imagine... that's all.
Thanks for having my back, kid.
I trust you've still the 505 digits, correct? Can't wait to talk to ya. And actually, the possibility of us chillaxin someday has recently become exponentially more likely.
Je t'aime beaucoup.
Hold a tight ass, as my dad would say.
Cheers.
g