Recollections

We order a bottle of Shiraz. Shiraz is the new hot wine right now, coming from Australia as everyone knows. But what most people don't know is that Shiraz is the name of the town where the grape plants originally came from. this town is in Iran. Not in Australia. Some Australians found some amazingly special tasting grapes and brought a few plants back to Australia to create one of the hottest wines in the world today. the town of Shiraz is also where Princess Little Tree was born many years ago. God bless Shiraz.

We fall asleep watching la dolce vita, Fellini’s great entrance into superstardom from 1963, finally released on DVD. She mumbles with eyes closed, ‘why is it everytime we are together we are watching these funny fellini movies” “I don't know... its weird right? its pure coincidence though.” We laugh and joke about it, everytime we’re together there happen to be a few fellini films laying about in my studies... and this weekend it was no different... but we are not raving fans... neither of us... ‘I believe I may be too young for fellini still,’ I comment. ‘well nothing ever happens...” she says... “a few characters stand around looking sexy and being very philosophical about life... ‘I believe I have gone too far now.. life escapes me... it grips its clutches around my body till my last breath...’ “ we both laugh... I pretend I am Anita Ekberg. I lie back and pose like a woman who is ready to be made love to... ‘do you want to make love to me here?’ ‘yes, no? let me finish my cigarette first...’ laughs... ‘but leave your sunglasses on.’ More laughs. we make love on the couch for an hour or more. the whole time the Italian voices from the TV a few feet away trail in and out of my mind’s hearing of things... I kiss her, I hold her little body, I watch her body twist about on the couch, I hear Marcello Mastroioni speak in Italian about the absurdity of life and all that is... I reach for chocolate. I feed her chocolate. Can we eat chocolate and make love at the same time....

I sit up and take notes while she takes time to breathe in and out...

This is brilliant. this is the best I have ever done as a writer. Because I am not explaining. Its real. I am just letting it out as it happens. in the flow that was prophesized by the channeler many many years ago when he predicted that my infamy was inevitable because it would come from my life on a silver platter to the masses.... with no editing, from my writing,,, jotting it down instead of explaining. No more prose. I ban the fucking prose from these diaries from this point on, forever more. no more prose. Just taking notes.... life is poetry. Just take notes. Don't explain.

You cannot possibly write about everything you experience Fishy. it is impossible. When will it end? I don't know. I cannot help it. you can help it. just let go. be in the moment. be here with me. but I cannot be in the moment without trying to save the moment... you cannot save the moments Fishy. yes I can Little Tree. I can save the moments by writing them down. But you can’t write everything down. Then all you will be doing is writing... and not living. That is not true sweetie. Think about it.. how much do I live? I live. you know me. I live. my life is large. Larger than most. But I write so I can make sense of it all. so I can savor it all....

Are you afraid you will forget it all? I begin to cry. I explode with the understanding of why I have been writing everything down for twenty years now.... yes. I think I am frightened of this.... So I write. You won't forget it. yes I will. I know I will... I reflected for a moment to see if I could recall something that I had forgotten... there it was. the year before with Sam, the journalist from the Times. she was on her hands and knees on the bed, reading something on her laptop, I pulled up her skirt from behind her, she asked me what I was doing. I told her not to move. I revealed her panties. I reached for myself and began to do myself right there just looking at her from behind. She knew what I was doing and she played along, just kept reading her laptop... I climaxed right there just kneeling there behind her looking at her bottom in her panties... it was fantastic.... it was exhilarating... it was poetry. I almost forgot about that moment... because I never wrote it down... my God what a sin that would have been. She then lied down on the bed and did herself with me watching her... I do not tell Little Tree of this memory... but I got the message... we do forget things... writing is important...

You're making this less special by writing it down... no I'm not... I'm making it more special by preserving its memory...life is funny life is precious life is sacred... but life without recollection is meaningless... it does not exist. and therefore it never happened... you are crazy Fishy. I know. perhaps I am. But I love you. I love you too.