Wednesday 16 December 2015

Journal # 12.16.15

I still wished the clock would stop and give us a chance to breathe but time preferred to kick ass, drag our hearts around, and mine kept getting snagged in the pricklies or thumped down some steps or stepped on by a bunch of children runnin' blind for milk and cookies, kick the can around the parking lot for fun, ran up some stairs and dropped from heights to see if it would bounce or explode, or what, and either way sure was hell of a good time, I swear, when you have my undivided attention, guys just stand there and step on it, suddenly great theatrics, entertainment, and maybe even a bloody mess.

When you care the most, when they have you, you can get heartless. Winter never wanted to be so icy cold. It just had to. Yes I will warm it up with some Charlie Brown Xmas cards and long live snail mail. The post office is my second favorite living museum behind the bookstore. Some millenial stopped me yesterday sayin' wait, you mean people still do that? I was thinking, wait, did you just say that? Never liked sending cards when it was the thing to do, and now when it's going out of style I'm intent upon it.

These songs, without words, arise in my head. I gotta put words to them. I was chosen. I was chosen for the in-law unit out back. Where is she? She's in the shadows, we don't see her much. She's in the periphery. She's part of the goddam scenery, dontcha know? She produces something fierce! You shouldn't bother her, really, she likes to be left alone and do what she does. It's something magical, I suppose. But you won't make much sense of her, she's not exactly on the planet anymore, everything is dissociated, tangential at best. Maybe her heart got caught in the blender one too many times, ya, it's a bit of a tragedy. They told her but you have so much to offer just one too many times. Her potential rose up and bricked her in the head. She's not quite there, but we love her just the same. If she would only let us.

No comments:

Post a Comment