This is it?

October 11, 2010 § Leave a comment

I guess I thought a new city would be like a new body, like being reborn into a new heart and a freshness, like when you cycle through an empty city early on Sunday morning and it’s crisp and clean and the sun is trying it’s Glaswegian best to shine.

But life/living/everything just is not that simple. And I can accept that, right here, now, in this moment.
A new city is more like an opportunity to heal. It’s not a new mind/body/heart, it’s sutures. Stitches. And you can’t get them wet, you gotta take care. Some day they won’t be there when you look for them; they’ll have disappeared long before you thought to look. You whitewashed their presence. Life’s like that. A new city is possibility, not a double-take on reality. On a plate lies faces, faces, faces. And you choose whom you want to wake beside, whom you want to lunch with, whom you want to regret, whom you want to admire and move on. And whom you never want to see again.

Yes, it’s stitches. My sister’s friend yesterday remarked over tea that their is nothing but the here and the now and the being HERE RIGHT NOW and this is true. Stretching your mind further than this is to exercise a life that is not yours, for it is not the present, it is a dream. Which you will wake from.

And now, here, now, RIGHT HERE, I’m happy to be here. I’m happy to have been hurt, to have been there, in that blackness that tunnel that darkness that absolute numbness feelingless. I have been, I have returned. I may venture there again, I may not.

Perhaps someday I shall be submerged, but it won’t be today, and it probably won’t be tomorrow unless some driver takes a spite against my vintage Raleigh Alpha Shopper. Envy, my lovers, is a terrible thing.
Almost as terrible as trying, and being beaten back down like a briar in a lane. Or empty gestures. Or reserve. I would not preserve it for a world, or three.

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