My life has been too interesting lately in useful ways. I'm approaching normalcy. This situation cannot stand; I'm retreating into my box until--okay, actually, this feeling, this flavor of mundane surreality is absolutely useful. I just have to figure out how to channel it.
For example: "Dude--an ashtray. Look: I'm carrying an ashtray. C'mon! I know this is your brother's house, but seriously!" because my friend ashes on the effing floor. The effing floor! I can channel this "dudeness," as I'd call it: dudeness bubbling on the surface of a sea of mundane surreality is just the effect I think I'm looking for. It's a perfectly unexpected combination, like a dish with an unexpected pairing of salty and sweet.
About a week and a half, two weeks ago I was struck with a fleeting, beautifully whole and perfectly complete sense of the entirety of my story. It was majestic; there's no better way to describe that feeling. It took my breath away, left me paralyzed.
Now, returning to that memory, that moment, I can feel the tantalizing edges of it in my mind. It's absolutely a tactile, gut-level thing, a wafting scent, a memory of a taste I can't place in time or space because the food or drink it belongs to hasn't yet been presented to me. I feel I'll have to go into meditation, long, silent, and slow, to bring it back and flesh it out. It's a seance for a gnat--a life so brief that bringing it back is like striking in the dark in hopes of bringing back one's hand clasped around some invisible treasure, bit of intricately crafted jewelry. I feel like a blind man trying to smell his way back to a Monet in an art museum, except I still have to figure out how to break in at night despite daunting security.
Meanwhile, I've been writing so many "dudes" into my little "effed up-ness"-evoking project that when I went to visit my family the other day, to watch my middle brother graduate from high school, that I think I called just about every relative I interacted with "dude" at some point.
Destreza and Me: In which we discuss the value in knowing how to dance (or
knowing how to move your feet around in any way other than walking).
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A lot of you may know that my two biggest fears have always been spiders
and dancing. I'm starting to regret never overcoming the latter. It seems
as tho...
14 years ago
2 comments:
I want to be called a dude!
Then will you respond to my text messages, dude?
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