Seemingly opposing variables get muddied together, but I want them to stand alone, distinct, clear.
I’m getting vertigo, trying to make sense of incoherencies, those things that are intangibly mutating. I’m repulsed, alarmed by that which is illogical.
It’s unsettling to admit that I only know what feels good, and what doesn’t.
I’m walking downtown, foggy-headed, untethered.
Busy-minded people blur by. I look down at the ground as I walk. I can’t bear to meet people’s eyes, to see the endless parade of the same vacant gaze.
The ground is littered with their filth. Cigarette butts tossed away and stomped underfoot, like all our dirty secrets. Forgotten scraps of paper, napkins kissed with lipstick. Styrofoam pellets that will outlive us all.
Just ahead, a parked motorbike jumps to life, revving its ugly whine. After it pulls away, I pause in front of its former resting place. Spilled oil is smeared all over the sidewalk, from it and many others like it.
I’m surprised to find it beautiful.
Variables align into one clear moment that pierces through the blur.
This feels good.
Through the fog, brilliant moments still make their way in.
They always do.
Eyes closed, breathe deep
Ashamed confusion, deflect
Look askance instead.
Self-absolved, no duty to try
Intellectual curiosity is dead.
Autopilot, flapping jaw
Blabbing to a wall
Deaf ears, blind eyes
Why am I here at all?
Disinterest plus passivity
Birth of escape fantasy
Hubby at the wheel
Elope to the absurd
To where words pay for meals.
Lazy country landscape whizzes by. My pencil scratches, crosses Ts and swirls Ss. These are the vows I will share with my F in one week. In the presence of the people we love, gathered together to celebrate our union.
My heart sings, and my eyes overflow.
A low harmonic murmur buzzes next to me. A monk in turmeric robes is chanting. The reverberation of his voice off the glass is steady and beautiful.
This is what fulfillment feels like.
Still night, heavy air. Windows open, shutters start to vibrate. A lightning storm hurtles in with rapid-fire bursts of daylight, bringing fat raindrops that smack the window frame, just missing their target.
Wide-eyed, I sit on the edge of the bed, stunned by the cacophony of light. Eyes dart east-west, chasing electric cat-tails.
Gargantuan bursts of lightning, shaped like the birch trees in the front yard of my childhood home. Jagged, spindly, white-on-black. I huddled under my mom’s handmade quilt while outside, the thunder cracked ferociously. One intense white blanket of light seared the sky, and made you afraid that it would rip itself open. The dread of the rumbling, hellish roar that was to follow. Like a cat’s hiss, a sudden electric scream that shook my bed and rattled my core.
But now, the volume’s been turned down. Frenzied white-gray bursts, halos of diffused light dance for me and only me.
This is the deepest part of night, where there is no time. It is eternal, pure and perfect.
Like the timid animal I am, I lay back in bed next to F, stunned into stillness. Our room is a frozen vacuum, illuminated by relentless, pulsing full light. This rhythm lulls me to sleep.
Mix, flood, wash
Swipe, blot, scratch
Too much water, muddy
Too much color, sloppy
Too much detail, cluttered
Swipe, blot, scratch
Imperfection is expected
Breakfast in bed on a weekday: A gloriously sloth gesture. Unabashed hedonism at its finest. Be it only a slice of toast and hot coffee, no matter. Simplicity is preferred. Makes the mundane seductive. Overindulgent.
Every No is a chance to learn something. Every closed door, every rejection, every empty inbox. Every outpouring of effort that fails to make even the tiniest ripple. Every twinge of disappointment, every shameful time you realize that you don’t measure up.
Nos hurt; they make you question what you’re doing and why you do it. But this is exactly why Nos are also a great impetus for growth. Why are you doing that? Is there something to learn here? Is that No a permanent roadblock?
Yes can be too easy. Yes absolves you from the responsibility of reflection. Yes tells you what you’re doing right, not what you need to work on. Yes makes you soft.
I’m on a mission to collect Nos. I have a lot to learn.