Friday, Jan. 18, 2002 / 7:27 p.m.

~Sensual Evocations~

"Kiss me, please kiss me, kiss me out of desire, baby, not consolation�" - Jeff Buckley

You know how some music evokes really strong feelings, or emotions, or memories, or all three, all three at once? Jeff Buckley's "Grace" is like that for me. When I pop the tape in my Walkman, and actually it's a tape with "Grace" on one side and Moby's "Play" on the other, and I've written about this before, here, in this online diary, but I can hardly explain exactly what it does to me.

I'm tempted to say that the first strain of "Mojo Pin", the very beginning wail, makes me wet, but I've not attempted to document that. I'll just say, instead, that if I listen to this tape when I'm especially needing a diversion, an escape, it takes me away. If I listened to it every day I'd hate it, no doubt, and when I first bought the album, taped it and listened to it over and over in the car, before my tape player broke, well, I did grow tired of it. But now, today, this moment, it's serving its purpose. Oh, I don't mean making me wet, I mean it's diverting my attention!

I can see him, Jeff Buckley, as he sings, picture his eyes closing, his head back, his face squinching up with emotion - I did see his concert footage that time on MTV2, so I know what he looked like when he sang, how it took him away too, making this music, he was so totally passionate�a Scorpio. Mmmmm�do you think I'm horny?

Maybe that's it, maybe that's all it is, maybe I dreamed a few nights ago that I had had sex and I was wondering how I'd ever show up to work and not have it written all over my face: I Had Sex. But it was only a dream. Maybe sometimes I feel really sensual, even stuck here in this cubicle at work, when I stretch it's a long stretch, my whole body moves, my back arches, my chest pushed way up, my arms are out to the side, or back behind me, when I push up my sleeves I am caressing my arms, or when I put on hand lotion after I wash my hands in the bathroom I spread the lotion on and suddenly I'm a mass of sensations, and I can imagine hands other than my own touching me.

Maybe even on a day like this, feeling like this, I can hope Nelson actually does call me, that I can hear his voice in my ear and imagine his hands touching me�hear him speak Spanish to me, and guess what he's actually saying�maybe the reason I haven't wanted to deal with him, with his calls, the reason I've been apprehensive about him calling me back all week is that I do want him, I always did, I was shattered when he didn't come here, when we didn't meet, when we didn't get the chance to do all the things we said we'd do, going to used record stores, touristy places, downtown, making love. It didn't happen, and we had planned it.

It was him. He backed down, he wasn't ready. I never knew if I would be ready, I simply was going to jump in, as I do, head first, without thinking too hard. I couldn't think too hard or it would never happen.

All week I've been thinking of him and the message he left on my answering machine. He said he wanted to see how I am, and I never believe anyone truly wants to know how I am, so I didn't trust him. And he said he'd call me back, later in the week, and all week it's been later in the week, and now, finally, now, I want him to call, I want to hear him, want to lie on my bed holding the phone, his voice inside my head, imagine him beside me. Silly me.

Jeff Buckley is singing "Hallelujah" in my ears now, it's his voice I'm hearing. And he sings to me, just to me, he fills my head with his voice, and it's the most beautiful voice, ethereal, warm, sensual�

*I wrote the above while still at work, losing myself in my headphones, in Jeff Buckley, in Moby, filled with a longing that's hard to put into appropriate words, hot, cold, feverish, flusy, and now I've been to Wal Mart, spent money, bought weird things like Guava nectar and Little Debbie orange cupcakes, and come home. I'm still thinking about Nelson, a lot, and I do hope he calls after all. Hah! I am a fickle one, I know. I have strange relationships with people. Imagine how awful it would be to be really close to me, if I let you in, you'd never know what to expect. Hopefully, you'd like that. Most people don't.

Think I'll surf some diaries for a bit, see if Nelson comes on ICQ at all, otherwise it's me, a couple cats, some food (I'll be having Progresso chicken soup....hopefully it will cure me of whatever is invading my body), and lots of TV. Or....the internet, or reading, haven't decided.

shhhhhh....don't tell anyone, but my diary is unlocked since this afternoon....it's an experiment.....designed to feed my ego.....we'll see if anyone bites......don't be surprised if it's locked back up later.......really, if anyone asked, almost anyone, I'd be happy to give the password, just so I can have a guestbook filled with notes from online "friends", like everyone else....but no one asks......

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