.d.
.latest.
.older.
.tell.me.
.sell.me.
.dirt.
.mylove.
.c'mon.
.me.

.sponsor me.
.PLEASE.

2003-02-26 - 10:30 a.m.

the nights are warm and perfect in their incubation. usually there is just enough breeze to take away momentary flahes of too hot. it is only february. although i am always exhausted right before gong fu, something psychological i will unravel later, it is easy to motivate myself to what awaits. i walk through the night on a narrow windy street. i am already perspiring as my pace quickens and i feel the pollution of the day disappreaing through my pores. i arrive to the cool stone building around 8:15. the main room, the one with swords and weapons for fight and dance and break-my-heart beauteous sweeping, that room is lit and there are usually several people practicing as i arrive. i slip to a side room where there is only the light spilling in from the main room. it is dark and narrow and there are punching bags in the corner. i am here to live in my body. there is no ceiling above me. i look above thinking i could be anywhere on earth. then i remember. i am anywhere on earth. and i am practicing twisting and throwing and turning. i catch glimpses of my body in a leaning mirror in order to make sure of form. i am wearing a black tank top and i can see my shoulders. i can see the reflected light catch glimpses of sweat as i am tracing my eyes down the back of my shoulder. with arms outstretched and twisting into horse, i am flying over stone and under night. with the flat of my graceful fist i am crashing down upon all that attacks you. my skin is salty and warm and i imagine you here. moving me moving with me. and i imagine no one. i am only torso burn as i realize i am inhaling strength and exhaling fear. in out my body the vessel for me to use and sail and rumble. my veins pulse big and blue surfacing over my wrists and hands. in. out. i am moving through me.

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