listening to why?
Every single person here is a violin that is a tad bit flat. I can tune, I have a good ear and delicate hands. I am a healer who needs healing. Or an astronaut who suddenly contemplates plan B at lift off. Through the white noise of choking the world is a matter of seconds fading. Between gasps for air and thrashing arms in water the play of light is a conversation with the crows. Inside the heart is a vacuum.
...So now here I am huffing butts with a strange older man who takes one look at me and says 'uh-oh.' My ride pulls up to the curb and I get in without looking back because now I know that I'm wasting time in Every Place I Go. I hear it's a beautiful thing, you know, indifference.
Sometimes i am convinced of the absurd things, that they are in fact more real than the unreal.
Also,
I feel as if I am a whisper amid anguished screams. I said this at a dinner table while eating with some friends. I'm not sure if either of them understood. I can't say for sure if I did understood it myself.
Everything is undergoing a transformation, I am slipping between sentences and handshakes. The lies between laughter are big ones.
Shit. I would like to wander away from everything. Maybe paint for a decade. Maybe just walk around and listen.
Funniest thing I heard yesterday night, while walking to the cemetary:
"Just bury me under the snow I want to die." Why would anyone ever laugh at that?
Still. I did.
oh and I keep getting cards in the mail from people telling me that they're really super sorry that my dog died. They keep bringing up the idea of a dog heaven and that she's looking out for me. Sorry but that makes me want to vomit, all good intentions aside. It's things like that that make me wonder if anyone knows me at all. I can't imagine they do if that's how they think I'd be consoled. If I could ignore all their apologies and letters and explainations, maybe I could pretend that the whole thing never fucking happened.
Heh. Like I'd try.
PS
What do you dream up while I tongue you down?