Last summer, when I lived in Oxford, I watched this video all the time. Something about it gave me hope, even though I wasn't really separated from anyone or anything.
I'm trying hard to hold on to hopeful things: Summer Break Milwaukee avec Susan (trips to the Cream City Collective, the Burnt Book Mobile, Broad Vocabulary, the Queer Zine Archive Project, the CrimethInc Annual Convergence, awesome), writing letters, favorite songs (lately I've been recapturing youth - listening to Hole and Tattle Tale, turning off my last.fm scrobbler so that no one will know just how many times I've listened to "Violet" or "Erica"), the fuzzy sound of tapes played in Walkmen, the readings from last night's seder (emphasizing the importance of embracing the brokenness within ourselves), riding my bike, skateboard, roller skating (moving - I never move anymore, stay curled up in bed with headphones on and a blanket pulled over my head to block out the light). I am doing whatever I can to shut out the feeling of cheap beer dripping from my hair and the sound of him saying, "You've always been a stupid, self-absorbed slut."
Herman Dune might be wearing off, but I don't think that this ever will:
Three more weeks.
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