If we can use words to create worlds, why can we not use them to save this one.

 

If we can use words to create worlds, why can we not use them to save this one.

 

Carrying disbelief up a hill is almost comparable to carrying your own child up a mountain. 

There is a weight to both, that one can see as a burden but at the same time such a burden that you can’t just put it down and leave it behind for the wolves to eat.  Like at times being plagued by metaphors that tend to eat their young, canabalized words that turn upon themselves at the end of every sentence.  But it is ok.  The world does not need me to save it. The world has a way of rebalancing itself after every cataclismic shift.  Like the silence of the sands as they pile up over you as if your life were a dream.  Only to wake up and realize that you were not dreaming and that there is sand everywhere and your mother is yelling at you to get up, that you are late for school and why does your bedroom resemble an MTV Daytona Beach Spring Break party with Downtown Julie Brown lying half naked in bed next to you.  It is them that your father pops his head in the door and lingers just a bit too long, staring at Julie and then at the poster of the dogs playing strip poker that hangs over your bed.  You notice your father’s envious smile and know that he always coveted that poster.  And you curse yourself for not taking down the damn poster once your older sibling went off to college and you took over the big bedroom.  Which on the very same day your mother turned your old room into a BDSM playroom.  You know that life evolves everyday in ways that we can never expect.  Youtube taught you that much.  And that is exactly the gloryhole signifigance of it all.  Or at least that is what I remember my gym teacher telling us as he passed out the athletic jock supporters to us back in 9th grade locker room before we had soccer tryouts.  He said that we would all one day look back at that moment in time and feel the pride that was intrinsic to the life of a Nanuet Golden Knight soccer player.  I think he was arrested years later for having a relationship with some student from his Health Education class.

 

A sun drenched February morning, a walk in the cold, the crunch of the frozen snow under my boots, a string of thoughts that have nothing to do with one another but puzzled together can make for some damn enjoyable typing. 

 

Spinach smoothie.