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Wednesday, August 11, 2010

what is within me won't stay within me forever.

There is a girl who wakes up every morning and her bed is floating in midlife. It's not a bad float. It's weird, I mean it's weird but it's good. There is just no solid ground for her self to sleep and dream upon. Then she jumps off of her bed, afraid she will wear a hole in it if she lingers there too long. The jump is a fall and she feels the pressure of everything as gravity pulls her into her daytime. She wants to forget about herself. She wants to become absorbed in all of the lovely things around her. She wants to learn from every small and not small thing that comes about. She wants to help people and be a good friend. She wants people to know that she cares. She wants to work hard, feel comfortable, be fun. She wants natural strength and talent to crush her inhibitions into dust, and that dust will become glitter of fearlessnes. She wants to have a place where she is going, and to know the pathway she is walking. She wants to do so many things at once. And when she lands from her leap there is a slight pain shock up her legs and her feet feel heavy. She feels as if she were a very old and continually aging Latvian woman. Short. Wrinkly. Confused. Doubt waits in her clothes, and as she dresses it slowly sinks inside of her and finds places to hide. Places she won't be able to even reach out to and scare away. Not this time. She tries to enjoy each seed in a strawberry. Because as small as she feels, she understands that those seeds are small but important. But the seeds don't taste like anything, and the strawberry can't be enjoyed to the extent of it. Which is why she would rather eat grapes, because they don't have so many little seeds that confuse her, and they are sweeter anyway. As she steps outside she feels like she has to make up a picture out of every cloud. Her imagination is tired and she misses the beauty of the whole sky. She almost wishes no one ever came up with the idea of making pictures out of clouds. As she walks her blind path she balances so carefully in one straight line, afraid that taking a step off that line would be too dangerous. So she misses the wildlife of her surroundings, and turns she could take into areas that could excite her much more. She reaches cliffs of equations sometimes. Very tedious, significant quandries. And she climbs down the numbers and symbols, the bottom of her feet feeling for the next thing down, closer to the answer. And as she reaches the line that seperates the equation from the answer, she looks down and sees nothing. There is nowhere else to step. There is no answer beyond the dividing lines. So she sits on those edges and waits, and the numbers and symbols and question marks start to weigh heavy on her shoulders. And then she looks up and remembers that she can take those things and re arrange them. She can take two subtraction signs and place one perpendicular to the other and it becomes an addition. Which she prefers much over two subtractions. And she can take that division sign and turn it sideways, put one of the periods at the bottom to make an exclamation point, and take on of the periods and throw it away, leaving room for endless sentence. If she gets rid of that period she could speak forever and never have to say a goodbye to something she didn't want to. Her bed that floats is her connection from day to day. Those nights that bring her further and further into the future. So far that she could never run back. So old that her responsibilities start to load up on the bed, and the bed slowly lowers itself, looking for a place to land. A place where each day that connects into the other day is a solid idea. A meaningful place for her. Where she doesn't have to worry about what seeds in strawberries mean, or how that cloud could be any coherent noun. She doesn't have to wonder because she will know. And if she had her own place she could most certainly hang up her clothesline, and hang up her clothes. And the doubt could dry out of them. She could be ready to go before the sun comes up. She could never want to go to bed again. She could be relentless and amused and incredible. The cliffs wouldn't stop her. She could pack up the equations and trek along her tightrope and throw out those symbols to see what happens to them when they land. Whether they sink or swim, or get eaten alive... indicating the safeness of those wildlife areas. Which really become the answers for her to climb down lower and just see, what is there.

1 comment:

  1. I absolutely love it!!! Melissa, I love that you share your talent with the rest of us... I'm so touched...
    Marta Strzinek

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