i want to be up at moorpark college looking through telescopes and taking photographs of the moon.

i want to be laying by the side of the road, the one that winds down to filmore, the one where we laid in the dirt one night, palms holding rocks, stuffing rocks in our pockets, believing EVERYTHING.

i want to be driving down to the beach alone in the middle of night, like i used to every night, the route i had that went like this:

1-3am: writing a letter in my kitchen, everyone sleeping in the house---->drive to the post office, deposit letter in mailbox, if necessary buy stamps, lick stamps, deposit letter in mailbox---->no later than 3am: drive down kanan road to pch, drive up and down pch between santa monica and el matador beach for an hr or two---->sometimes stop and lay in sand, pretend you don't exist (this is your protection against assault and worse), watch ocean, watch stars---->drive up and down again until sun about to just start to rise---->5am or there abouts: drive back home, park, pretend no one will miss used gas.

no one ever mentioned it.

i want to smell my perfect autumn smell, something that is different from everyone else's burned leaves or whatever people with more pronounced seasons get.

it's something like using a hibernating space heater for the first time in the season and too many cinammon sticks in the apple cider.

i want to be trying drugs i have never tried again, i want to have a piece of earth where no one could ever touch me, even though i never felt safe; i want there to be shows for the first time, and kissing at the beach.

stains on the ceiling where the rain came in, pictures of when i was little next to pictures of the holocaust.

framed mailing lists of people murdered, a mezuzah on the front door.

the smell of the bookcase that kept the prayer books and the afikomen cover stained with wine spilled from elijah's cup.

spider webs in dried flowers, the painting of the nude that my mother did before i was born.

i am missing southern california again, it's like three layers of skin ago.

if only i had felt this way even 2 mos ago, i would have had such a different time when i visited.

ah well.

it's enough that i am aching for southern california tonight.