Saturday, March 29, 2014

incongruential.

The consequences of what you do right now, in this moment...
   Do they keep vibrating, like a pond surface shattered by water droplet?

Can we ever escape eating this figurative potato chip right now?
   Or will it all come crashing down onto the figurative scale that is ever increasing...

Me.  I want it; what happens later happens later.  I want it now.
   Come.  You can have it.  I know what happens later.  You know it not.

This isn't me.  What have I become?  Fix me.  I want to be fixed.
   You broke it.  You decided in every instance of your present to break yourself.  Fully.

No, no.  This is a terrible dream.  I need to find a needle.
   You are the dream factory.  Sleeping in your wakefulness, tempted, drawn, conquered.

I'm not this way.  I'm better than this.  We are better than this.  Farce.
   Come.  You can't have it.  You can't have what you need.  Destroy yourself.



... Living in the present is for __________

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

idylles.

They sat together on the love seat, his hands gently caressing her.
      "I don't usually talk to you, except to scold, but have I told you... you're the most beautiful thing."
You have, on many occasions.  I've never reciprocated.
      "These are the best times."
Yes.
      "You listen to everything I say."
You listen to none of what I try to say.
      
   Silence.  Ears adjusted, and the gentle tick of the clock cracked the sphere of quiet each second.  
Computer hummed along with her.

He stroked her neck with one hand, leaning to kiss her forehead.

   The clock sounded: seven thirty exactly.
      "I'll see you in nine hours."
Mmmmmmmm.

As he opened the front door, a blast of cold wind seeped through and wrapped her fiercely in its embrace, made her open her mouth in surprise.

He looked back

      "Good girl."

She looked up

meow

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

11/26/2013. dear elsie.

Hello.  Do I know you?
Wrong question, sorry.
      I was going to write... For the time being, just to you.  I don't know.  One of my friends tried to commit suicide the other day.  Life is precious, idn't it?  Wanted to help but, I was more angry than concerned.  Can't people see they only get one.  You only got one.  Too short too.  I'd trade... A lot of things.

      I got six days until a lot of things are over.  Don't quite know what I'll do, though.  Life right now, it's just a cycle.  I waste hours doing absolutely nothing in the right way, then I sit up at five in the afternoon and it's all gone.  Then I start to scramble to finish everything.  It doesn't happen like that when I do things with people, but I suppose that's how everything works.  Peer encouragement pressure sort of idea?  Life is as bland as you make it.
      Do you think it's in human nature to eat other people's food?  Ask God for me, please.  It's... 11:26 on November the 26th.  We could have been here, together, for... stuff, you know.
      So I stopped robbing myself.  It felt alright.  Then it felt a little weird... Can't quite put my finger on it.  Not emotional robbery, no.  But it was sort of... Physical and mental, without being emotional.  Hurt.  But it was on a really shallow level.  Eights are out this week.
      Do you remember, sometimes, when neither of us had the gall to speak to each other and it'd go on for weeks, just because we were afraid of being overly eager?  Sometimes, I wish we could just have doggy mindsets and do doggy things in doggy ways, except be toilet trained.  That works out, doesn't it?  I'd much prefer dog than cat in personality trait.  But you know, we're cat people.

Have fun in heaven, Elsie.

Signed:
Eisle
For:
elsie, 1913 to 1964.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

guest post #2 - [apple]crumble.

Her dad had been sick for a while. It seemed like a long while. Was it only for the past five months that she had been travelling to see him three times a week? But those 20 hours a week seemed such a big commitment – packing up lunches and the kids and arranging for dinner when she was away from home. For a while she had felt trapped. Why couldn’t they just put him in a nursing home and have them take care of him? Why did her mother want him to be cared for at home? That meant rearranging life.

This time when she visited and asked him how he was doing, he told her a story. She could see by his earnestness that it was important to him. He really wanted to tell her about what he had done earlier in the week.

“I went to see the doctor.”

“How did that go?”

“There was water.”

“What water, where?”

“Outside.”

“Oh, a lake?”

“And animals.”

“What animals were they?”

“They were…..there. They were by the water. They were in a group. They…”

“Were they geese?”

“They were together..”

“Were they ducks?”

“They were...”

He stumbled for the right words. He had never had this kind of difficulty telling a story before. He was frustrated…It bothered him that he couldn’t tell her what he had seen.

She was puzzled…and sad. She had known he wasn’t doing well. Perhaps for the first time, she wondered for how much longer he would be with her.

She tried to pick a new topic; something that they could talk about without him feeling bad.

“Dad, it’s Valentine’s Day today. I baked some brownies that I brought over to share. The girls helped me make them.”

He nodded, not comforted really. He knew something still wasn’t right and he remembered he couldn’t speak what was on his mind.

She knew, too. They sat together and watched TV.

An hour passed…or was it two? It was time for her to get ready to go…but wasn’t there some way she could connect before she left?

“I love you, Dad.” She couldn’t remember saying that to him before.

He paused, looked up and said, “I love you too.” She didn’t remember hearing those words before.



After all, it was Valentine’s Day.

                        - Equinox