29 June 2010

There are two people in this world.

I have this strange feeling of
Hope and nostalgia and anxiety and heartbreak.

I suppose its due to her.
And my feelings of guilt associated with her
And the way I project those feelings upon everyone else.

I feel like the whole world hates me
I dont think they do
But I feel that way.

I want to get away.
I plan to get away
For my birthday
To just leave, alone, somewhere.

I look forward to it
But I dread it
At the same time.


Let there be two people in the world.
The first shall be second, and the second shall be first.

Now add more people.

28 June 2010

Native Speaker.

Before me, Lelia had come off a string of men who made her feel steadily sorry and confused and burgled. Each relationship was ending up a net loss. It struck her how a man could seem to gain a little bit of magic or grace or virtue with every woman he was with, but that a woman--though she said maybe she should be fair and just speak for herself--relinquished something each time, even if it ended mutually and well. One night in bed she said, "The men I've been with have this idea to make me over. I feel like a rock in some boy's polishing kit. I go in dull, scratched up, and then rumble rumble whirr, I'm supposed to come out precious and sparkling again."
"Does it work?"
"They seem to think so."
"How do you feel?" I asked.
"A little smaller."

Pgs 159-160.

09 June 2010

Wishes and dreams galore.

I heard a catchy song on the radio the other day,
Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now,
Wish right now, wish right now
At first glance, it seems like a silly excuse for a chorus. Not even children look at the dots of light Boeing 747s emit as they glide through the evening air and mistake them for the streaks in the sky meteors blaze as they plummet towards the earth. The human machine flies gracefully, blinking in and out of existence. But the alien rock burns up like a candle against the blackness of space. In its glorious death, it brings hope to life. A star shooting is a rare occurrence, a singular event. But an airplane taking off happens every day.

Stars are wishes. Not that they grant wishes, but that they are wishes. And there isn't a star in sight in her night sky, so she'll settle for a plane. She is desperate to have a dream. So desperate, in fact, that any dream would do and she would believe anything to make it come true. To believe in shooting stars is fanciful enough, but to have to pretend that reality is a dream is heartbreaking.

The tragedy is not that her wishes go unfulfilled, but that she has none to begin with. She stars the ringleader of a one-woman circus. She recites Juliet's lines in empty parking lots. She holds lonely masquerades in dark alleyways. And her song cries out long after the magic is gone. If only she knew that there was a star out there for her, and to just hold on.


Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.