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Building a mystery

March 15, 2008

Clang goes my brain and it is loud but not totally unpleasant. I feel all at once familiar and strange. My mind spins and spins and spins and spins and when I attempt to stop it only a random snippet appears and while appearing disjointed to anyone else it is known and warm to me.

This life I had. This life I lived totally taken for granted. Waking up to the warm Cape sun and the music of clacking feet across our gray green blue tile floor that is warm under my feet in the kitchen and cool near my bed. A rhythm of day and work and night and work and day and water murky and deep. Decisions revolve around what to eat. What to wear. Where to go. Where not to go. Does this bag look better with this shirt? These shoes hurt my feet but damn they look awesome. Trivial really but this life I lived seemed at the time complicated and intricate. Lipstick. Hairdye. I am blond and never feel thin enough. Working to live not living to work. Falling in love and going to school. Dragging the laundry 30 miles away to the nearest laundromat seems normal and I like being in the warm space folding and accomplishing a small task alone with my thoughts. Wearing a sweater for the first time in August and realizing that winter is never far and is a light sleeper where I live at the end of the earth. Totally taking for granted my youth and power and opportunity.

Youth is about chasing something while the other stuff is catching up fast on your heels. Eventually your life overtakes you as you add more people to be responsible for and then you are quickly trying to fill this funnel that is so wide it all spills out and evaporates in the noon day sun steaming and drifting away. The smell of the hot pavement right before it pours down rain when the air is electric and anticipatory is like  a miracle waiting to happen.

There is the flash of time when it turns from a sunny day to pounding rain and many things get washed away. When the sun comes out again it takes a moment to remember where you were headed or what you have to do. That nagging mystery in the back of your mind like you forgot something you just can’t remember.

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. March 16, 2008 5:43 am

    The words floated in and out of my head, smooth, gentle, nice.

    Thanks.

  2. March 18, 2008 2:10 am

    Beautiful reminiscence of youth. I hope you publish some of your posts someday.

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