March 10
Sitting in the LAX terminal on my way to Portland with a desire to record things down even though I wonder if now is the time, and then I say ‘now is always the time’. Someone looks at me strangely, prolly wondering who this kid is, this kid talking to himself. ‘Ya gotta be fuckin fearless man!’
I’d been thinking about the novel I’m writing, and its hero Jude Moonlight. He should be with a black girl, sassy with curves and serene in the true moments, sereeeeene. Serene.
The second thought concerned the character Charlotte, who I thought might be more well-suited for the name Irene but I think that its better for the serene woman; or maybe the name Seraine for that beauty. That mystic.
Anyways, people ask Jude why things didn’t work out with Charlotte and he answers that it did work out. “We just became different people. And if it wasn’t us that changed well then it was only life that changed. And so she and I, or our past selves least still live on somewhere all happily ever after, staring into eachothers eyes in a time and place that streams into infinity.”
—
Do these women, do they just come in through a stream? A small tear through a silk curtain? My uncle, a great man specially in this field and in many more, sends me a text about some college ball game. It exentuates everything! My eyes are wide and my—I am on fire. Yea there is fire. The different girls in this airport. A young woman, Mexican woman, she is serene. She is the inspiration behind Seraine. Then there are two blondes, one passes behind me and I smell suntan lotion. Her skin is an olive tan and she is gone quickly, and I imagined a scent after all, but this third is young and dressed in pink and looks like a model in Monaco. So young, so pretty, she is like heaven but then again she’s just a girl.
~Quinn
Ren Michael 