perspective
I sorted through my old things at my mom's house yesterday. All of those things I had at my old apartment, thrown into boxes, last fall, with winter looming over my shoulder and the collapse of life as I knew it, a void of uncertainty before me.. All of these objects, frozen in time, collecting dust and sitting out in the garage and attic, through spring, summer, fall, winter again. Silly things frozen in a thought; a new sponge for my new sink, a book I had been in the middle of reading, garbage bags for my new apartment, wherever that would be..
I feel like this has been cleansing, in a way I cannot see, but only feel the hint of.. to throw away most of that bullshit, to keep only the most important things I will carry with me into the future.. this time, for some far off day, when I go back up those dusty attic steps that smell of old, rich wood, the encompassing dust and sunlight the same exact way as I remember it. And I will sit down with my lover, my belly round, and feet worn from walking through thousands of villages and mountains and cities spread across every continent, and I will smile deep, auspiciously, and cut that old layer of packing tape.
The other night my phone rang, and a glance at the caller ID brings me right back here. Awakens every cell in my body. Of course I had just thought the day before, for the first time, "he's going to call me." I startle myself with these sudden moments of clairvoyance that defy all logic and probability. I was busy, and actually on the line with someone else, and left the message for later.
"I tried to call you earlier, and your number wasn't working, but I tried it randomly just now, and it worked! Hahah.... So that's good." His carefree stoned laugh, and uncertainty at finding himself talking to an answering machine, on a working line, are enough to make me replay it a few times.
"You are magical," I had told him four months ago.
Four months ago feels like a lifetime.
And then I deleted the message.
No, I'm not in Humboldt yet. Not anywhere close. But getting closer..
And when I get there, just like anywhere else..
I will know - this is where I've always been.
This is where I will always be.
Soon...
But there are a few things I've got to do first.
I feel like this has been cleansing, in a way I cannot see, but only feel the hint of.. to throw away most of that bullshit, to keep only the most important things I will carry with me into the future.. this time, for some far off day, when I go back up those dusty attic steps that smell of old, rich wood, the encompassing dust and sunlight the same exact way as I remember it. And I will sit down with my lover, my belly round, and feet worn from walking through thousands of villages and mountains and cities spread across every continent, and I will smile deep, auspiciously, and cut that old layer of packing tape.
The other night my phone rang, and a glance at the caller ID brings me right back here. Awakens every cell in my body. Of course I had just thought the day before, for the first time, "he's going to call me." I startle myself with these sudden moments of clairvoyance that defy all logic and probability. I was busy, and actually on the line with someone else, and left the message for later.
"I tried to call you earlier, and your number wasn't working, but I tried it randomly just now, and it worked! Hahah.... So that's good." His carefree stoned laugh, and uncertainty at finding himself talking to an answering machine, on a working line, are enough to make me replay it a few times.
"You are magical," I had told him four months ago.
Four months ago feels like a lifetime.
And then I deleted the message.
No, I'm not in Humboldt yet. Not anywhere close. But getting closer..
And when I get there, just like anywhere else..
I will know - this is where I've always been.
This is where I will always be.
Soon...
But there are a few things I've got to do first.