Spilling and other such vehicular hauntings
My car is haunted.
Every time I get in my car, the rearview mirror has moved. I move and move. I move in my car and the car moves with me and the rearview mirror has a mind of its own. It switches positions.
I have decided the transition from college to the real world is the hardest time in someone's life. I push away and away and away from growing up; growing up pushes me down and down. Being in college is no longer an acceptable excuse for minor irresponsibilities, and now credit cards and rent and jobs and relationships and reputations mean something. They didn't in the past. They mean everything now.
Humble. That is my word. I mutter it in my car. Driving from Kevin's house. Little kisses on the cheek as he leaves for work, me still wrapped in blankets on our makeshift king size bed. Humble. Hali took my picture in Shepherdstown this year. I approach it and all I see is my massive girth. The fat that embodies who I am, and who I run away from.
I run away from my fat. I run away from my body. I give lipservice in favor of fat activism and utter sentences in support of my fat. I feel horrible.
I approach my Hali Taylor portrait and all I see is my girth. All everyone else sees are my eyes. They see a powerful woman. I don't see that in myself. I don't want to see that in myself. I don't want to let that come anywhere close to my ego. Because in reality, no matter how powerful I am, no matter how powerful or brilliant anyone is, we are all humans. Weareallhumans.
We are all humans.
Weareallhumans.
einstein and wagner and hitler and ghandi were all humans.
weareallhumans.
iwriteliketonimorrison.
My muse woke up the other morning. I drive to work and I want to write. But all that keeps me from writing in this blog is the fact that the green pulsing light of my phone messages calls to me. It wispers. I have to forget that I am not in college. I can't shirk these duties. So these posts, these utterances, these little snippets of me, this side of me that you only see....it only comes out when it can.
It comes out after six glasses of wine.
Every time I get in my car, the rearview mirror has moved. I move and move. I move in my car and the car moves with me and the rearview mirror has a mind of its own. It switches positions.
I have decided the transition from college to the real world is the hardest time in someone's life. I push away and away and away from growing up; growing up pushes me down and down. Being in college is no longer an acceptable excuse for minor irresponsibilities, and now credit cards and rent and jobs and relationships and reputations mean something. They didn't in the past. They mean everything now.
Humble. That is my word. I mutter it in my car. Driving from Kevin's house. Little kisses on the cheek as he leaves for work, me still wrapped in blankets on our makeshift king size bed. Humble. Hali took my picture in Shepherdstown this year. I approach it and all I see is my massive girth. The fat that embodies who I am, and who I run away from.
I run away from my fat. I run away from my body. I give lipservice in favor of fat activism and utter sentences in support of my fat. I feel horrible.
I approach my Hali Taylor portrait and all I see is my girth. All everyone else sees are my eyes. They see a powerful woman. I don't see that in myself. I don't want to see that in myself. I don't want to let that come anywhere close to my ego. Because in reality, no matter how powerful I am, no matter how powerful or brilliant anyone is, we are all humans. Weareallhumans.
We are all humans.
Weareallhumans.
einstein and wagner and hitler and ghandi were all humans.
weareallhumans.
iwriteliketonimorrison.
My muse woke up the other morning. I drive to work and I want to write. But all that keeps me from writing in this blog is the fact that the green pulsing light of my phone messages calls to me. It wispers. I have to forget that I am not in college. I can't shirk these duties. So these posts, these utterances, these little snippets of me, this side of me that you only see....it only comes out when it can.
It comes out after six glasses of wine.