Friday, October 3, 2008

SHADOWS

We played in the sand, light breeze taking hold of our brown skin; I recall the calling of the robin, chased around our kidney road, an incessant obsession we followed until the hollow in our bones broke loose. How my hair tangoed the wind, resembling fingers of a pianist playing every black, white key. I drew a crimson house; all roads leading to it. Every landmark mapped within acres, every rosemary bush on adjacent sides of the street, every place where the road submerged unpredictable ends. You drew two figures, shadows describing the world. I placed my dirty hands like a tornado crunching through a steep hill, toppled them meaningless. I did not stop to think of the roads leading out. You drew two figures, shadows holding hands. Said it described the world. I did not stop.



Saturday, September 27, 2008

LOOKING IN FROM THE OUTSIDE

A good friend of mine once said, "Life is NOT about finding yourself, it's about creating yourself."
Lately life has been hectic. Weeks consume themselves entirely, each day resembling the next and the next after that. Routine after routine. I take a second to breathe but humid air is strangling. Have you ever felt like you're watching your life from a window as if you're viewing a reality television show in which you're the audience; your opinions go unheard. How does one travel outside the realm of being a bystander in their own life? If life is about creation instead of discovery, is assuming the bystander role inclusive--in order to see where you're headed, you need to take a step back and address the problems. What I'm aware of at the moment: It's easier to be a bystander. It's easier to run away. The only downside to this approach is adapting to the inability to feel when all you really can feel is a numbing sensation--both physically, mentally, emotionally--and when you finally admit to yourself that feeling nothing at all is simply not enough, sometimes it's just too late.