Posts Tagged ‘things that ruined my day’

there are gaps in our respective and mutual understanding, and the purpose of all communication is to bridge them. but it’s an unforgiving job.

sometimes we perceive gaps when they don’t exist, and so we behave as if they do. but sometimes the gap is larger than you realize and you can’t bridge it yourself. it makes you wonder if this business of communication, this relational drudgery, is just a lost cause.

persuasion is a mode i enjoy. but when the task seems sisyphean, the barriers unrelenting, the payoff seems hardly worth the effort.


Read Full Post »

8:12, a.m., EDT

sometimes dreams are a pale reflection of actual emotions.  and sometimes it seems that life is the shadow and that everything imagined is just too powerful, too threatening, and somehow more real.

peeling paint, scuffed floors.  dim lights still somehow too bright, empty lockers.  a bed.  a bed?

wild accusations flew.  a young, serious man with dark hair was terribly embarrassed to overhear. a young woman named julia sat quietly, diplomatically.

i suppose someone had to be quiet and diplomatic.

it was unwise, unfair, humiliating to press this clash into the faces of onlookers.  some moments need to be spent alone.

at 8:13 when i awoke, it was tempting to close the gap, however briefly.  to reject boundaries of time and space and just listen for a moment.  just recover that pale shadow of reality.

i ached for it.


but it would be unwise, unfair, humiliating.

and some moments need to be spent alone.

Read Full Post »

mannequins bear themselves with an effortless insouciance that i can’t muster on my best day.

i had an unnerving near-encounter yesterday with a young man i didn’t know at all, had never laid eyes on, but the sight of him just sent a fish hook into my chest.

Read Full Post »

sometimes i think i would be happier if my memory were not so good.

i wish that, when i looked at my clock this past monday, early morning after midnight, i hadn’t known where i was exactly a year earlier, and what i was saying, and with whom.  i wish that this weekend i weren’t going to be thinking about grass and stars and strawberries and pink underwear.  i wish that this morning i hadn’t been seized with the sudden memory of the way the nighttime lights on lake shore drive look through a fog of tears.

and so under the weight of a long memory, a chest cold, and an extensive to-do list, i am muddling through my week.


there are red roses on my desk, though, and they haven’t yet started dropping leaves all over everything.

Read Full Post »