more this is not the story

for a while i went to an acupuncturist.  and one day --  i'm sure it was the day of your bicycle vision  --  i saw you so clearly and spoke to you.  i can't remember what was said, you know how that goes sometimes, and maybe i didn't say anything at all, really.  for me, i don't think it was a bike.  i'm pretty sure you were in a folding beach lounger.  could that have really happened?  the important thing was that i touched your consciousness.  i was sure we had a quantum entanglement.  i was sure you were tied to my mission.  i was like an activated sleeper.

did you think about me?  you were kind of a mess for a while there.  i doubt you thought about me much.  maybe, after you realized i lacked the bag of chips you forgot me entirely.  at least until you read some of what i had to say about flying.  i think now, i wrote like a starched shirt then.  ok, maybe lightly starched and with love.  but still.  one thing i'm not, i'm not a phony, and i guess you could see that.  you couldn't quite believe it, though.  and i guess i made a lot of assumptions about the kind of girl you were used to based on how you reacted.  which is part of why i wanted to be a person instead of a woman.  it always sounds weird to me:  woman.  girl sounds less oppressive.  chick, somehow, almost better.  none of this is or ever has been pathology.  i mean, sure i got the penis envy, but that doesn't make me a dude or anything.  maybe it was all just dirt from the road.  i guess you think i cleaned up ok.  i just didn't want to get lost in translation.

i keep thinking about the hollywood sign.