on telelvision, a twelve year old boy is stabbing a radiology patient.
i am the tree in the foreground of the picture in the heading of this page. you are the bench. or the trees in the background. or the footprints through the snow.it is 1:56am. it could be any time of night or day as far as the artificial lights in the ceiling go. and the hallway leading to the door of my room gets more confining every day.
i dont feel like ive felt much of anything in a while. except disappointment and frustration and love and lust and generosity and selfishness and satisfaction and pity and adoration. and a million more. i spend nearly all of my time in bed, limp, propped up by pillows, computer in my lap. i hardly study. i go to the library and tell myself its fine to lean back in the chair and close my eyes just for a second. or for ten minutes. or for an hour. its fine to pick up the bookbag that you never even opened, and to leave the library, and to catch a bus home because the ten minute walk would be too much effort. well, it is fine. except that at night i lay here propped up on my pillows and try not to think. i try to smile, because things are going well and people are all right and everyone is friendly and the semester is ending. but i dont. i dont smile. and then that dreaded moment comes when i cant resist picking up the bible that i leave on the windowsill next to my bed. that moment is the worst of every day.
maybe when earth hugs you its not really a hug. maybe shes just grabbing hold of you before she tosses you out into the irrationality of space.
posted by Anonymous @ 11:53 PM
