It's a beautiful day, warm and stretching on too long. In that way it's very much like other days, which are less beautiful and long and cold. I don't know how to break out of myself. I don't know what I'm looking for and I think I've stopped looking. In a newspaper today I saw a picture of Sundararaja looking old and uncomfortable. Seeing it made me uncomfortable and I laughed and tore it out, then not sure why I had done that, threw it away. I have his kung-fu dvd in my bag. If he wants it he can have it. I'm tempted to mail it to Postsecret, but don't know what the secret would even be. Even this leaves me with the same waxy feeling that isn't quite sadness, is too dull for sadness, though its true I took a detour up his street last week listening to two choice Ani Difranco songs on repeat and thinking about jade plants. That was more like anger. I'm trying to turn it all into a story, but the narrative hinges on a kind of absence that he doesn't quite have yet. I want the present absence, when by being nowhere someone is everywhere; he has just been deleted it seems. And I'm rewriting in the blank space, rewriting him back in something we'll try and call fiction.
Yes, everyone feels very far away, I am drawn to astronomical comparisons. No one is truly the sun, Phaethon learned that and died learning it. I learn it and promptly rename everything, happy proof of how little I really did learn. Last night I had a dream about someone who I shall call Phaethon and whose face was two-dimensional and slid in and out of focus as if on a piece of paper moved too quickly in front of your eyes, like a reflection on water and the water being mopped up. I think I just want everyone to become stories. And then once they are there, I want them terribly to come back to life.
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Oh, jade plants. We never did find out what they mean.
ReplyDeleteWell, this very greatly makes me wish you were back to life in Oberlin, and that I could walk downstairs and crawl into your bed and eat bunny grahams with Sophia until your comforter was covered in crumbs.
Also, it's implied that you're there eating the bunny grahams, too, and because technically Sophia and I could still do this with E.F.
ReplyDeleteWow. I am incapable of grammar right now.
ReplyDeleteI don't really know what it is that I want to say, so I will leave it to my instinct to say what I want and hide it, however it has, in this.
ReplyDeleteThank you for giving me somthing to read every so often while I wait for my next class
so as to avoid any confusion, I highly doubt I am on that list of people this might be