sometimes i just want to scream, scream at you and everyone else who looks my way, looking at my jeans with holes and my sweater with a spot of coffee on the left breast from two weeks ago. a two week old coffee spot on a two hundred dollar sweater? who ever thought of such a thing? if i were a more material person, i would have rushed it to the sink to soak, rushed it to the dry cleaner to cleanse, or rushed it to the trash to tell it goodbye and toss it from my life forever. but why would i? i like the spot of coffee. it reminds me of the laughter that was pouring out of my mouth like a river because life at the moment was so spectacular that it didn't matter that coffee did spill on my sweater and taint it in the eyes of you forever. my heart soaring, my caffeine pouring, life a small piece of glory in the midst of a tragic piece of artwork.
it really is tragic isn't it- you cant see how great the moment is but you can see the flaw in my apparel and the dirt under my nail. you can see the dent in my car (8 years old, did you see that too? did you recognize the old body style and the crack in the windshield? why don't you fix that? why should i? it makes me more cautious of rocks flying my way and reminds me that when one does hit me, i will live past the point of contact to tell the story to everyone who wants to ask about the details.) i see your eyes and your demeanor and know that you're not happy but rather wondering if i do infact see your eyes and your demeanor. you can stand up straight but i can see you slumping under the pressure of being perfect and beautiful. i wish i could take your hand and show you how wonderful it is without nail polish and ultraviolet light. i wish i could somehow get you dirty enough so that you would appreciate how clean your life is. if i could, i would throw you into the water so that you could feel the instant of intense fear that arises when you look down and miss your toes. why is it important? it's the moment when you have to feel your toes to make sure that they are there that you appreciate your toes the most. they could be lost in a second, couldn't they? do you know what resides in the dark water, in the spiney and slimy kelp swirling around your legs like a secret embrace? that's the part that is remarkable, you see. the unknowing. i know it's scary. i want you to be afraid for what is below your toes but i want you to accept that you can't control it either--
that's when you really know you're living. but the thing is you don't realize you're living until later, when you're safe inside the wooden hull or with your newly endangered digits buried in the sand that you realize what a thrill it was to be so close to something that you still can't grasp because you can't grasp what wasn't definable in the first place. yes, i want you to know that feeling, of utter failure in understanding why the chemicals are flooding but somehow knowing that in knowing that your body responded to the stimulus in the way that you felt is acceptance of the situation itself. and in that way it's not a failure, right? no, it still is. but you can't win everything, i want to tell you. you can't force. you have to let the cells communicate with eachother in the complexity that evolution allowed for- it's amazing, it's astonishing, it's breathtaking and it'll keep you alive inside.
that's why there's coffee on my sweater. don't you see?
it really is tragic isn't it- you cant see how great the moment is but you can see the flaw in my apparel and the dirt under my nail. you can see the dent in my car (8 years old, did you see that too? did you recognize the old body style and the crack in the windshield? why don't you fix that? why should i? it makes me more cautious of rocks flying my way and reminds me that when one does hit me, i will live past the point of contact to tell the story to everyone who wants to ask about the details.) i see your eyes and your demeanor and know that you're not happy but rather wondering if i do infact see your eyes and your demeanor. you can stand up straight but i can see you slumping under the pressure of being perfect and beautiful. i wish i could take your hand and show you how wonderful it is without nail polish and ultraviolet light. i wish i could somehow get you dirty enough so that you would appreciate how clean your life is. if i could, i would throw you into the water so that you could feel the instant of intense fear that arises when you look down and miss your toes. why is it important? it's the moment when you have to feel your toes to make sure that they are there that you appreciate your toes the most. they could be lost in a second, couldn't they? do you know what resides in the dark water, in the spiney and slimy kelp swirling around your legs like a secret embrace? that's the part that is remarkable, you see. the unknowing. i know it's scary. i want you to be afraid for what is below your toes but i want you to accept that you can't control it either--
that's when you really know you're living. but the thing is you don't realize you're living until later, when you're safe inside the wooden hull or with your newly endangered digits buried in the sand that you realize what a thrill it was to be so close to something that you still can't grasp because you can't grasp what wasn't definable in the first place. yes, i want you to know that feeling, of utter failure in understanding why the chemicals are flooding but somehow knowing that in knowing that your body responded to the stimulus in the way that you felt is acceptance of the situation itself. and in that way it's not a failure, right? no, it still is. but you can't win everything, i want to tell you. you can't force. you have to let the cells communicate with eachother in the complexity that evolution allowed for- it's amazing, it's astonishing, it's breathtaking and it'll keep you alive inside.
that's why there's coffee on my sweater. don't you see?
posted by The Smart Pineapple at 20:23
2 Comments:
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