(no subject)
when i ran out of breath and had to start again, i turned for a new view. "those curtains must have been fun to make" i echoed into the room, shining my voice into the bright lights. right on cue, the man jumped into our dialogue. he explained his love for knowlege unattainable, sliding gleefully from one thought to another until i had to hold my breath in anticipation of his inevitable launch into the night. as his voice filled every coffee cup and every trendy magazine in the shop, i retreated further behind my eyes, until i could observed his hip young shoes, female thrift store pants and anonomously grey polo shirt. what i saw was his desired life supporting his reality; his instinct to blend into a small coffee shop weighed down by the lack of ability to accomplish just that. i wonder what he saw when he decided to pour his world into ours.
did he know that we would think of him for days to come? that the two kids sitting in the corner learned just as much about each other as they did of him? did he see my fixed smile, conciously trying to look comfortable? does he hate me for not being able to bridge the gap between stranger and friend? what if he knew that i talk science with everyone i know, that my frame of reference is always my current obsession? would he understand that i am picking him apart, and by doing so i respect him that much more? perhaps not, and just so perhaps i am using him the way one uses a dvd movie. hit play again, read about it, discuss it. dissect it, combine it, watch it again. i don't remember his name. i don't think he knows mine.
did he know that we would think of him for days to come? that the two kids sitting in the corner learned just as much about each other as they did of him? did he see my fixed smile, conciously trying to look comfortable? does he hate me for not being able to bridge the gap between stranger and friend? what if he knew that i talk science with everyone i know, that my frame of reference is always my current obsession? would he understand that i am picking him apart, and by doing so i respect him that much more? perhaps not, and just so perhaps i am using him the way one uses a dvd movie. hit play again, read about it, discuss it. dissect it, combine it, watch it again. i don't remember his name. i don't think he knows mine.