Chameleons

Ok Viking.

Exactly what part of you is it that gets kicks off turning up to my ends and feeding me salted peanuts and ‘something like Vailima?’ and then pissing off to assume responsibility elsewhere?!

How very unfair. Guess you better start searching hard for that psychedelic Dutch field in which you’re going to make up for this.

Thank goodness for you and your very long hair and your very long beard and your very intriguing spirals of thought that send us both into some mind blowing abyss that leaves us entirely stunned and  changes us in increments, every single fucking time.

Interesting isn’t it? The way a shared human experience just renders such fondness and affection and love with a certain tenderness for another person? And for us that experience was being on an island where it felt like there were just two of us there in a realm of sea and sun and suffocation. Chameleons eating custard pies.

I have just slouched down on my sofa in my very cold house and I can still feel the meaning of our last encounter on platform 5B, streaming through my lonely consciousness, soaked in… well, ‘something like Vailima’.

There’s a certain longing for a note unread and a domain uncharted, words unspoken and conversation yet to be had. That’ll keep us going until next time.

And even in bleak hunger, you must remember how wonderful I think you are and that I really do care for you so much and then think about what madness might have consumed me enough to need to write (for you truly know the meaning of that) and remember, you must keep going because you are a total fountain of infectious joy and there will always be a next time. There’s some certainty you can revel in.

I already miss you but the warmth and comfort of this friendship that’s recent but deeply familiar envelopes me. And I throw it all down in solid form so that long after this feeling passes, I still remember this cocktail of emotion with substantial clarity.

Don’t you forget.

Yours lovingly,

The girl whose chakras you totally opened x