Nano nano: 17718
Okay, so I have some nano catching up to do.
I have 600 more words and then I'll be caught up for saturday. Sunday and today will come tonight, easy, I hope. And I hope to get ahead again ebcause I'm goign to be goen to a WONDERFUL PLACE this weekend.
Without further ado, as if ther eis more i will be late for class, here is more nano
ps: i thought I had posted somebefore i left btu it must not have worked...:S
It was almost as if the light happened naturally; as though in the air, like pollution or water droplets in fog. But instead of fog or brown sludge floating around, it was light. I suppose there was no reason for me assuming I should be cold. I no longer felt I should be cold, and the further I went, the more I felt something pulling me further and further to the direction I was going.
My shoes were starting to become an annoyance. The laces held too tightly, they felt heavier and heavier and when I looked at the bottoms they were full of the ground substance. That didn’t make much sense. How could they be filled with ground substance if I wasn’t leaving marks behind? It was like I was being touched by the surface, but I wasn’t in turn affecting the surface as such. That doesn’t make sense. How could the surface be touching me, and clinging to me, losing part of itself on me without me even so much as letting it acknowledge my presence? ‘Well,’ I thought to myself, ‘my shoes are heavy, I have no idea where I am, my hands didn’t seem to be negatively affected by touching the surface, so I might as well.’ And I took off my shoes. I mean, they were really making me more tired than anything else. It would be illogical to keep trekking where I was, so I took the risk.
I hadn’t found apples yet. My stomach was starting to throb, but I didn’t really feel hungry so much as unfulfilled. I kept walking. My feet felt the texture the same way as my hands and I was much more aware than when I was wearing shoes. The surface I stood upon wasn’t so smooth as it appeared with my shoes and indeed was quite dynamic in it’s dips and bumps and little hills. I checked the pads of my feet to see if I was collecting these compacted particles, but I wasn’t. In fact, it seemed my feet were cleaner than they ever had been before. I turned around to see if I was making marks and was shocked. I was. My feet were making imprints!
I stopped and checked my head for some philosophical way to explain why this could be, but nothing particularly profound came to the surface. I stood, gazing far behind me, in a slight groove in the ground, looking at my stepping pattern and wondering all of the things one wonders when they find themselves suddenly propelled into an environment they’ve never seen, touched, or heard about before.
Suddenly, as though that moments glance was far too long, I found myself falling quite quickly. ‘Now what?’ I thought to myself. I was falling ,spinning, out of control again. Faster, swirling, going away from where I was standing. I felt again as if in transition, as if caught in between the cross fire and a careen. I was falling so quickly and I thought I was going to crash, though my thoughts remained quite placid, quite calm and quite unalarmed. Maybe I was looking for adventure after being stuck in that tunnel for so long. Perhaps I wanted this to happen, I’m not sure, but I was falling and it seemed to me that Tuesday may be over and done with and so was I.
I was falling. Out of control motion by my side. I felt time, time unwind. I felt fine. Out of control motion, I was fine. Like somewhere coming fast, something taking me at last. I felt like a stranger on a bus; out of my control, taking me fast, milk through a straw, backwards in fast forward motion. I was falling downwards but I felt as though I was heading up, head first, air all around. A bus, a vessel, a stream.
I met a stranger on the bus one time. A façade of decades, long ago. He told me of the book he wrote, the book he hoped to write. I met a stranger, I met him quickly, I met him at a time (I unwind, slipping, pulling, being pushed faster out of the way of the ground. Mental inventory cheque. Earth shake, earth move, quake. A muscle spasm in the chasm of space). A time and he introduced me to his story and that’s when I lost my sense of time (no bus schedule memory), a ticket misplaced, out of time. HE told me of his story. Said he wrote my name on the first line. He introduced me to his hair, his back. A suitcase forgotten on the tracks.
He offered mea cigarette, laced with sweat. I had to piss like and I couldn’t forget. My wrist watch. It was gone. I lost my sense of time and never looked back.
I turned his cigarette down, whispered, and gave myself a crown. HE said he’d write that in the second line space. I wondered what his point was, his plotline and I looked into the mirror at his face. I couldn’t leave him behind.
I thought of that, think of that, when I unwind, as I now unwind. Storm chasing monkey with no time. When I lost my watch I lost all track of time, my gender and my mind. I recreated, unsuffocated, stole my cigarette away in my hand. My suitcase was too full so I left it behind.
I was spiraling, like a spiral staircase down, or up, I assumed the first. I felt like I may know what it feels like to be given birth to.
I was moving so quickly that when I finally slowed down I thought I was a single being stretched to my limits, my maximum. Stretch marks never lie. I soon realized that that my slowing was gearing me up for an exit; slow, tight and a little moist. If it wasn’t birth I was feeling, it was like the universe or earth or whatever I was in (something really huge) was pushing me, with much difficulty, despite my size, through their bowels and spitting me out slowly, painstakingly slowly as if all I was and all I was ever meant to be in this moment was a really big shit. I landed quite comfortably in a shallow pool of water, unscathed.
NOW where the eff was I? Had I just completed purgatory and forced my way to heaven? It was much brighter here, I must say. The air was even clearer. I didn’t have the feeling of whether it was colder or warmer than where I was before, but now I definitely felt wet. Lying on my back, head above the water, watching as the giant sphincter that spit me out closed ever so slowly above me.
‘Hi! Can I help you up?’ So, it wasn’t closing up. It was being covered by a ginormous, penguin head and I was discovering I could hear again.
Ch 9
You know the feeling you get when you just wake up and it’s not that the sleep you are waking up from was particularly bad, but that you wake up and you’re entirely sure why your body tells you to wake up when it does and really it’s kind of annoying because it’s about three am and then you can’t really get back to sleep again, but you were really, really, really, looking forward to sleeping in for once and because you can’t get back to sleep you say ‘ heck with it’ and get up anyway? And it’s not that you had some bad dream that startled you or anything but the only dream you can remember is relatively bizarre, comparatively, and it’s dark and you’re a bit delusional but you’re sure, and you’re ABSOLUTELY sure that you saw your cat put his two front feet back onto the ground and hang up your bathrobe again? And it’s three am so you tell yourself it didn’t really happen, go out into the kitchen half dressed and make yourself some coffee which you later, thanks to the cat, spill all over your knees (the worst place to get coffee burns)? And maybe the phone rings, or it gets light peculiarly early, or something stranger than usual happens to make you think that maybe you really are still sleeping or write it off as the three am creeps?
Well, take that feeling for a second. Examine it closely. Watch it’s little bizarre particles float all over in your hand. Oh, don’t squeeze it too tightly. Those memories might reappear and you wouldn’t want that to happen at all, would you? Now, take this feeling and multiply it by about three hundred and fifty five. You’re certain your cat not only was wearing that robe of yours, but was also wearing your socks and holding your comb as it sprayed water all over it’s self singing that ever annoying song that always comes on when you least expect. You know the song. ‘Singing in the rain’. Yea, that one. And not only is your cat doing that but it’s asking you to get up on stage (the bathroom counter) and sing with it. And you do. And after, you walk into the kitchen and it’s as bright as noon, the coffee you pour on yourself is made of this bizarre liquid rubber that won’t remove itself from you and the phone rings and it’s the pizza delivery person who has an order of three medium pizzas with pickles and hot peppers and after you explain to the person it must have been a prank, they promptly read to you your credit card number and you realize it must have been the cat. But instead of getting perturbed, you agree to meet the deliverer downstairs in the alley where you have an escapade of eating pizza and reminiscing about all of these weird occurrences you’ve never had. And then you might have a vague idea of how I felt.
It wasn’t that I was particularly under annoyed. Or that I really secretly enjoyed this. But I was, admittedly, struck by the calm way in which I reacted. I suppose it was rational; I somehow entered this space without asking to be let in and I wasn’t rejected, I was acknowledged near immediately. And it’s not like I had anything particularly pressing to attend to. Except maybe Yanny. Or possibly Margie.
Oh Margie! I had not completely forgotten about her! No, I had not. I had not forgotten about her. She had forgotten about me. Said she couldn’t stand it when I didn’t answer the phone. Said she didn’t like the way I called her Margie when her name was Simone. Oh Margie, how could we. How did we end up departed! How? I don’t know if I have told you about Margie.
Margie and I were lovers. She was the first love I had had, besides those regular things one loves like backrubs and applesauce. We met at the grocery, waiting in line, only, to our surprise, realize that when we finally decided to put our things down on the grocery belt that the grocery was closed and we were the only ones there from the customers and the staff. We didn’t exit, couldn’t exit, unless we broke something. So we hung out in the storage room and talked long into the night. We talked about flowers, and beans, and all the lovely things that we had seen. She told me of life outside the city, and that I could barely just believe. She said she would take me there one day so that my perception wasn’t stemming from assumptions. She called me her face cream table cloth and we kissed until we forgot. We ate our apples and our applesauce, and borrowed a little bit of ice cream. We rearranged the cookie doughs, wrote poison on all of the meat, alphabetized the kinds of soup and pretended we were the store clerks offering up our services. We stole kisses by the sour cream and down by the cookies and over in the cleaning section. For each type of cereal we told each other a dream.
Oh Margie. I never forgot about you. I never wanted to give up that day in that place. I never wanted that to end. It took a long time for it to end; it was a holiday of some sort the next day (we don’t celebrate those) and Margie and I spent the night again sleeping on the flowers. We talked about the moon, windows and our favourite place to be. By the end of it, we decided it was right there, curled up on the flowers eating crackers and whipped cream. We wrote poems behind the products on the shelves and promised we’d be back one day. But when the store opened up again, Margie ran away. Not immediately, but a few weeks later. Said she had enough of the city and ran to find some trees. I hope she found them. She said she’d be back one day to take me with her. It was a Tuesday that she left. And a Tuesday she said she’d return.
Our lips parted and so did our hearts that day. We drifted and went our separate ways. I hadn’t thought of her in so long and now that I am here, in this bizarre place, this place of constant confusion, I had no idea why I would think of her. Unless it reminded me of the grocery store.
mooahaha