i spent a good half hour over the last couple of days trying to get the bathtub to fully drain without leaving remnants of facial scrub and shaved hair. yes that is gross, but it is the reality of my life, and others like me.
hours later, i am thinking about how i don't have much to say anymore. i'm not sure why this is, since my brain doesn't seem to stop processing. not only is it processing, it has to tell me everything that it is processing and why it is processing it. it can't just do it on its own...quietly, like those who tell me "i think too much" brains must behave. some days i want to trade.
some days i want to trade a lot of things.
i am in a period of reflection, not the empowering kind that makes me feel like i am invicible, but the kind that makes me realize all of my imperfections. the kind that makes me feel guilty for what i know is privilege. it was a privilege to hang out with my mom and sister reading david sedaris and watching humming birds, all the while wishing i was in his arms. that his is long gone. that him i knew has been gone for a long time.
i don't blame everything or anything on him. it is all in my head. my loss was to not express how he made me feel anymore. he numbed me, but i think he knew that. in a way he broke the spirit that he loved most. his fucking my close friend doesn't make it easier, just more confusing, just more random and displaced.
i carry it with me though. i carry it to places i never knew i would have the opportunity to traverse. i sit across the table with someone who doesn't know who i am, but would if only we could describe the same color of green.
i shaved my legs for that person. and the stubble that grew is what stuck to the porcelain and begged me to add draino to the grocery list.
hours later, i am thinking about how i don't have much to say anymore. i'm not sure why this is, since my brain doesn't seem to stop processing. not only is it processing, it has to tell me everything that it is processing and why it is processing it. it can't just do it on its own...quietly, like those who tell me "i think too much" brains must behave. some days i want to trade.
some days i want to trade a lot of things.
i am in a period of reflection, not the empowering kind that makes me feel like i am invicible, but the kind that makes me realize all of my imperfections. the kind that makes me feel guilty for what i know is privilege. it was a privilege to hang out with my mom and sister reading david sedaris and watching humming birds, all the while wishing i was in his arms. that his is long gone. that him i knew has been gone for a long time.
i don't blame everything or anything on him. it is all in my head. my loss was to not express how he made me feel anymore. he numbed me, but i think he knew that. in a way he broke the spirit that he loved most. his fucking my close friend doesn't make it easier, just more confusing, just more random and displaced.
i carry it with me though. i carry it to places i never knew i would have the opportunity to traverse. i sit across the table with someone who doesn't know who i am, but would if only we could describe the same color of green.
i shaved my legs for that person. and the stubble that grew is what stuck to the porcelain and begged me to add draino to the grocery list.
2 comments:
beautiful post. don't trade. you're just growing faster than the rest of us. or maybe we're all growing, but in different ways- which is good if you think about it b/c if we were all the same, we'd only talk about the same things and wouldn't really bring much to the table. do the things which are best for yourself.
C50 Y100 K10 is quite gorgeous.
!!
Post a Comment