Friday, December 10, 2010

Dear New Orleans and the word taint.

I wrote this in February of '09 when I was still in Drug Court; my graduation date getting closer. Closer to me getting to visit the only city that will take me as I am. I don't have to conform for New Orleans and neither does anyone else. That is one of the reasons I love it so much there. You can be whoever you want to be and no one will say a damn thing about it. It's the true definition of free. Unfortunately, thieves think the same way about your belongings. But it's worth it to live there. Worth every damn bit of it. And now.... the blog.



I still cry about it, when the mood strikes me. I always cry about it, when I read something in the paper. New Orleans broke my heart and like an abusive lover I can’t seem to get enough of, I always go back. Spiritually, I never left.

And if you think I’m crazy to go back, you don’t know the city like I do. I know the Mississippi River on a boiling summer afternoon, what lies under piles of garbage that sit on the street corner in the French Quarter, I know how to spell Tchoupitoulas, and know what entails getting your po-boy dressed, and I surely know what it means to miss New Orleans. I know the dirty secrets of the Quarter and how to cop dope in the 9th ward. I know that it’s in my blood like virus. A virus to some, but how I survive living in Florida for the next year.....

New Orleans gives me hope when I feel blue. New Orleans paints me red when I feel saucy. New Orleans feeds me BBQ shrimp when I hunger for her comfort. Sometimes, I scroll through apartment rentals on Craigslist.com and imagine my furniture sitting in the empty space. My furniture which remains in storage in a unit Uptown, a beacon of hope, sure to bring me home.....

I live life with reckless abandon and New Orleans is there along for the ride. Holding my hand and urging me to take one more shot of Jager. She’s gotten me shitfaced, but always held my hair back when I was puking in the street. She’s rode shotgun when I navigate aimlessly through her purple, gold, and green veins. Driving dreamlike through the Garden District, seeing time suspended through vintage eyes. ....

She’s inspired me to write pages and pages of her vibrant beauty like no other in the world. Pages and pages of her sordid and shadowy past, veiled by banana leaves and lace iron fences. Inside closet courtyards, under a moon ripe with passion. I want to take her in my arms and never let go.
~Strange "The Taint" Fruit 

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