Story: Cardboard Boxes
Written June 29, 2010
My life is sitting here in boxes... some in my mother's spare/"my" room, and others in the main floor hallway. The rest is at Monasin's. That's the immediate stuff. The stuff I need in order to function day in and day out. The rest of it is not clearly defined, it's just mine. Some of it is unimportant. Some of it is crucial. Some boxes are only filled with memories. Some contain jewelry- from the days of 6 different earrings, 3 in each ear. Right up to the nicer stuff for working days now. There's a backpack of my art- my attempts at bringing some aspect of a story to life.
They're all just boxes of stuff spread out. I'm spread across these places. And I feel like a box. You might just walk past me every day. Maybe stub your toe because I stuck my corner out too far. And then one day out of boredom you decide to open the lid to see what memories I hold for you, but when you're done looking you just put everything back. Close the lid and shove me further to the side, a little further out of sight. A little further out of mind.
And who knows when we'll say hello again.
My life is sitting here in boxes... some in my mother's spare/"my" room, and others in the main floor hallway. The rest is at Monasin's. That's the immediate stuff. The stuff I need in order to function day in and day out. The rest of it is not clearly defined, it's just mine. Some of it is unimportant. Some of it is crucial. Some boxes are only filled with memories. Some contain jewelry- from the days of 6 different earrings, 3 in each ear. Right up to the nicer stuff for working days now. There's a backpack of my art- my attempts at bringing some aspect of a story to life.
They're all just boxes of stuff spread out. I'm spread across these places. And I feel like a box. You might just walk past me every day. Maybe stub your toe because I stuck my corner out too far. And then one day out of boredom you decide to open the lid to see what memories I hold for you, but when you're done looking you just put everything back. Close the lid and shove me further to the side, a little further out of sight. A little further out of mind.
And who knows when we'll say hello again.