One year ago today, a friend of mine, 14-year-old Alexei Baureis, was hit by a car while crossing at a crosswalk, and died.
It was unbelievable. We grieved, many of us for the first time in our short-yet lives; we cried genuinely and painfully; we caressed roses; ever-so-slowly, we learned to live with the unimaginable.
History exists and gains relevance in accordance with the amount of active remembering among the living. Many of us have stopped actively picturing Alexei every day. We’ve continued facing the monsters of our lives and, in doing battle, let slip away the not-immediately-relevant—namely, the dead. I hope that even as we slip back into our everyday struggle, Alexei will occupy a space somewhere in our limbs where we can hear his voice once in a while. Especially as we cherish the memory of him on days like today.
365 days since incredible pain. 365 days of grief, guilt, slippage, normalcy, in some permutation.
Here is to many days more, and to the memory of the boy who changed our lives in one way or another.
Isabella – 6/7/2017,
It’s okay to cry: no
He tilted his skinny skates at 4pm: yes
(I sped glibly, it was thrumming slick-black except)
Do you remember, it’s been a month: no
It’s been 64 days and (I’m) counting until it’s my turn
(the gold flashing,)
glare at me paleface heave on that inky MASCara in wildlike jags burn it into your muscle and hair I swear it will help clutch me scream me wet my shoulder eyes
GOD I MISS HIM. Continue reading
Little things like the second law of thermodynamics—
The Entropy of a system increases over time, Ms. D declared, her
chest burnt and rusting off in gamma-radiated flakes.
I craved the world for her, a world which keeps on spinning
through every death and not hers.
Flying is a power achieved in certain heavily sedated states,
I like to think. Those forces which accelerate disorder
multiply through the beatings of blackbird wings and tumultings of
inky motorcycles along their neon-night highways, like a dream
things go wrong and things move. In their blithe neverendingness, things don’t stop,
I guess. Thunk, an apple. How to calculate velocity,
how to calculate velocity.
He’s my friend, that skinny lanky, pale freckled shrimp-boy—his brown doe eyes and his crop of brown hair he flips aside with a cinematic swing of the head—his tongue in his cheek. Alexei is one of two guys in my ballet class at Ballet Austin. His dream is to join the company as a professional. You should see his turns, whew, he does three, no problem at all, no problem just whip-whip-whip head.
You know, when I rejoined the Ballet Austin Academy in January, he would sit in the corner of the studio with me during down time and talk about dancing in YAGP, leaning affectionately on the skateboard-of-the-day. Outside the AVST studio, he has this button on his phone you know, and he’ll play a “Fuck you” right into your ear when you’re not paying attention, and skip away in guppy-faced hysterics.
Alexei Bauereis. Funny I didn’t know his last name until now. smile4eileen Rip alexei. A close friend who died June 7th 30 minutes after being hit by a car. He was funny and loved to joke around. I will never forget you alexei and I will miss you dearly. Continue reading