Ethan brought me to a party last night. We walked from my house east toward Burnaby until we came upon a house full of girls with plastic earrings and boys with indie band t-shirts. Walking into the kitchen, a man stopped me, “I know you from somewhere. You’re the purple girl! You’re Jhayne!” I said, yes and he replied, “I don’t know where I know you from.” It was a good introduction to the night. I felt transplanted without any roots until I found that there was talk of making a fire in the backyard. There was a brick hut for it and people who didn’t know what they were doing. Half an hour later, I had flames as a visible low red above the chimney by almost four feet.
I close the door quickly when I’m like this, and I can’t bear to look at you in the thinning sliver, because then I’ll lose it. I won’t be able to wait for you to get far enough away. I couldn’t bear it if you heard me, this is too shameful, too full of everything you shouldn’t see. I let you taste the humour in my blood, the scarlet flow that grins and flashes teeth, but this I keep away from you. You’re too nice to me. You don’t need to die a little everytime the moon is full. It’s a neglect leftover maybe, it’s the intensity that tides bring when they wear away the shore. All of it tastes like iron and salt. All of it drips down my wrists to taint my world with too much need.
Modified Fusion Fashion Show II.
April 19. $6.
A Burlesque, Comedy, Dread Extensions, Visuals, Art & Fashion Show.
Shift at the Lick (to the right of the Lotus).