Sometimes I think. Sometimes I don’t.

 

[Las Vegas] Silver love of mine

"Lucky at cards, unlucky in love."



* Feeling like in Heaven while writting this one. Just finished two midterms today and got full credit on the last sociology paper. Now sitting on my cushion with a glass of coke, a faint shower smell spins around and Cold Cold Heart by Norah Jones is on the sound box, which is the birthday gift my good friend gave me. Anyway, sometimes I wish I knew how to take his love.


-


This is a city that's been too cool for anything but money.


Las Vegas was our first stop of this winter trip, where I met other fellows. That night on the street, in a fast-food cornershop, this local smell of Vegas captured me in a mix of perfumes. Like a fake jazz age, like a paper rose, it sprinkled weightless dolls dancing in the sky.


What's your idea of being cheap, Vegas? And what ya want with this new empty-pocket girl?


That night was freezing in desert wind around the city, and just off the flight, we were walking street by street to explore it. Every piece of this huge oily cake, there was a paper grand architecture but all in neon shade; there was a Brooklyn Bridge, and folks taking selfies likeNew Yorkers; there was a Church, and rosé halo making it like Rome.....for a sec I felt I was even in Paris when a Effle Tower stood in front of me. Then I went back down to earth before a casino. Right, LV never has the soul of Paris, but how it feels to have a mix of half-real souls at one time and place?




It was the night before Christmas, and I was breathing this oversweetair; everyone out on the street that night was a homeless for money like me, but I was there to spend it. On the water surface of a fountain, something shined like misty silver, floating like blinking eyes----you ever caught a prostitute's sight on you? Out there a million.


Marie was waiting for the music to start the fountain show. I thought it was funny cuz I'd never witnessed a sight of money blowing up high while people taking pics. Everything is costly there, dance, art, music, but it's nothing any longer once inside a camera screen; once something stops moving, what's the point? 


I tried to walk fast behind the streets, running into a black saleman with his CDs. During few secs, he looked me in the eye and asked if the reason I rejected to buy a CD was his skin color. "Never"----I said back to him out loud.



No doubt Las Vegas is still an amazing city for its existence as a giant sign in the Nevada desert, for its thriving glory based on gambling luck; in my old knowledge, nothing could build on such things, let alone a whole city. I appreciate this wild greatness in the absence of framed values. Now Vegas shows me what can be achieved with nothingness.


In a random casino, suitmen were playing whatever at cards. Marie was mindlessly wandering around the hall; once in a while she was rubbing her fingertips in her jeans poket so obvious that I guessed she'dalmost like to try her luck with few bucks. I wouldn't cuz I don't believe in luck-----


 "You're such a odd mind that you believe steadily in soul and freedom but not love or luck." Someone told me so but I didn't recall who, nethier do I at present nor in future. 


If everyone believed in math, there would be no Las Vegas. Non-beliefs creat masterpieces in the middle of nowhere.


Just in a blink of my eye, a bunch of things booming out----there wasa old fella I knew studying in a local college, but I didn't feel like in touch as well as I'd lost her contact; Marie asked me to grab her dinnerbut she lost herself somewhere, so it didn't bother me to mind; I wasn't sure what to write my lover on Christmas Eve since she never gave a damn, which choked me on erupting words full of wishful wonderand later that turned into nothingness.....for a certain second I thought I saw God rather than shining money, a non-religious hallucinogenic God.




Las Vegas is a city without a past; it only sees the future, surviving for both the present and future to become its own past. Likewise, I don't have a past either, or it does exist without my valuation, equaling non-existence; the past is something to mention in my laughter, to tease at in few casual drinks with random fellows. People describing theirs in terribly serious pain only makes me wanna laugh. Yeah, I used to stay up, cry, overdrink coffee and write poems about it, but it was useless old days confusing a new road ahead; it cleaned your eyes brightly sharper for the future, and then it becomes useless.


I don't know from when on I rushed to cut my ties to the past, including those old fellas I knew, lovely home lights, specific times and places. There's nothing mine.....sometimes I'm walking fast through a familiar street and realized it could be the one I was walking beside my dad outside a moviehouse, telling him that someday I would be walking with my lover on this street. Now the thing is, my dad still watches movies, I'm walking on my own, and still unsure how to feel right about all sorts of love.


You are the person I stop loving, though before you it only faded in time. A word from you used to make my day, but now it's this unknown tiredness growing from nowhere. I can finally sleep tight.


Cold coins, cold kiss. 

Las Vegas, I've got to get rid of this hole inside.



























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