introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- can't get no sleep barely new day - twenty fifth of april, 2003 "carmella, where you gonna run to when if the sky comes crashin' in on you. slow down. who you gonna run to when there's nothing left for you to prove?...its true, what they say about you. its true."~beth orton the party has come and gone. the chicken was tender. the brownies, oozing with caramel, chunky with chocolate chips. the company, sparce but satisfying. and we edge on to another weekend.... i have a rare saturday off of work and intend to make the most of it. at five o'clock when the proverbial whistle blows tomorrow afternoon, i will stumble out of the mall and breathe the fresh air of certain freedom. and then, we will take to the road, north east, to indiana, pennsylvania. this weekend is Sugar Cup, a rugby event not to be missed. this having been said, i've missed it for two years now. with a place to crash a night and friends to make the visit merry, we venture out. and so i take this oppertunity to note that it is nearly one o'clock a.m. and i cannot sleep a wink. i'm not sure if its the tea i've been sucking down all day or the anticipation of being in the finest little television worthy town there is. or maybe its just that sometimes, around this time, there's a lot of it that comes rushing back. its just more clips of everything that i can't stop thinking about...stuck in strange pasts for moments on end, the present (lets not even mention the future) stands perfectly still and moves on by as if acknowledging that i've missed yet another boat. snippits i don't know why i put the cabinet where i did and i don't know why everyone just accepted it as the place to put the mail. and christi, there's this tape that i made for you that might have made the difference, but i'd had such bad luck with tapes and scared a great many souls into silence by means of the words of others. i sometimes wish i'd given it to you and maybe we might have shared something. more. i can still smell the scent of the tender leaves outside my bedroom window and i can still hear my breath struggling as i pedalled uphill three blocks to work. i can still feel the cool of the conditioned air on my morning warm face in early august. and chris, you've got to know that you still break my heart every time i think of you but it only hurts because we laughed we laughed so hard that i split in two some nights. and i've got to tell you that i miss your easy ways, the way you were before you became so socially ept, before you left the haven of your cave of a room. and tony, i hope you know that i meant it when i said i forgave you. i didn't get the sense that you believed me. and scott, the other morning i rode to work on the bus and i looked up from Three Junes to see a motorcycle idling idley at the traffic light and i swear i could feel the rush of wind in my short hair (which is now much longer) and my hands around your thick soft body, my fingers holding tight to your carhart overalls as we rode to wherever it was we were going... i never stopped wanting to see you. there are all of these snippits from the scent of new mulch around oak trees in the oak grove to the cool of grass on my feet in spring and the feel of warm sunshine on my face in a town from which i cannot sever myself completely.... all too vivid are these snippets, unaccounted for memories that have yet to be set to rest. and they go on and on: the walks uphill and down, the voices familiar, the laughs comforting, the arguments silly and unreasonable. such unrest is there tonight as my ghosts and demons speak to me in a tea party of memory that there will be no sleep tonight. there will be no sleep tonight. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
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