slides.

*

i take a running start, and

s l i d e !

all the way across the newly waxed floor in my clean white socks. i watch my reflection chase me across the room. from wall to wall, i hold my hands out for the edge of the doorframe--reach--got it. again! again! okay, this time it has to be faster. push off from the wall, a couple of running steps, and i'm off. sliiiiiide across the room arms oustretched for the table. oops--i just noticed. there's a small hole starting in the big toe of the left sock where the material is wearing thin. a day before i promised my mother that i wouldn't ruin this pair of socks too. i dont mean to ruin them..


i don't mean to ruin anything. or upset anything--anyone. but now and then i get scared, subconsciously try to protect myself and realise a split second later--which always happens to be a split second too late (thanks to the laws of ffkk)--the damage i've done. and all i want is to fix it, everything. to put it all back neatly in its place, wherever that might happen to be. but i look, and all i've created is--damage.
damages.
damaged.
forever.


forever is rather a long span of time, though. what's forever? nothing. everything leaves sometime. that commercial says diamonds are forever. sure, but what good are they after you're dead? dead. dead as a...doornail? you can't even be dead forever. not really--nor could you live forever, should they discover this 'fountain of youth' like Tuck Everlasting (nice book, never saw the movie). you might be dead or alive for the rest of time, but not forever. you can't disregard all the time and all the Life that happened before.


and always remember, you can't very well (fill in the blank) if you're dead. i hear him saying it behind me. i remember these things. the little things that were whispered, and the bigger things--long brilliant conversations. it calmed me down, you know. comforted. still does, when it just so happens. just to hear his voice, and see him standing right there...


that's why i've never had a 'best friend', i think. because i learned a long time ago that nothing's forever. nothing stays. nothing lasts. no one will be there for you in the end. it's you against the world and no one really gives a damn. except for the delicate few. and then it's the burden theory all over again. i know it doesn't hold--at least as well as anyone else. but still. i can't assume everyone thinks the way i do, can i? didn't think so.


and who taught me all of this? lots of people--my father, my mother, then my grandmother and, even more so, my grandfather, then i let Him teach me, later They reminded me, and someday You will too. not your fault, just happens.

-

begin intermission

running--racing, actually, you and i. to the end of the hallway, perhaps, to see which will get there first to not cross the finishing line.
or to the fountain,
or through the grass with color -rang- everywhere,
or across the Ledge and down the stairs, to retrieve a certain phone.


and no. i'm not nearly as psychotic as i pretend to be. but it's fun to pretend, as long as you know you're pretending, and don't forget which is reality. once you forget which is reality, fantasy might as well be reality, and fantasy may not be all that grand in the end.


jumping--out of the bed (or fall, as it might happen)
or into the puddle,
or in the elevator,
just to see that look on his face *grin*


do You wake up on your own
and wonder where You are?
You live with all your faults-


grin, laugh, smile, wink wink--deepbreath, and...


SLIDE


back to our scheduled (or, not so scheduled, and more random..) programming.
-

just happens. life happens. always happening and always s-l-i-d-i-n-g along. sometimes you're walking uphill, and sometimes you go downhill. speeding down the side of a mountain, or one of those huge yellow slides you find at the fair. yellow? no response?...thought it'd see if you were listening, and clearly-- those slides were the best. always that strange off-yellow, and always with the burlap sacks you stuffed your feet into. sometimes you'd go with someone--i went with my cousin once, a couple of years ago. she was eight, sat in front of me--i wrapped my arms around her and she reached up and held my arms as though i were going to drift away, somehow. i looked at her and said, you ready? she nodded--sure, let's go. i gave us a push and we were off. slid down a few feet, our hair blowing in the wind, and up the bump, down the dip, flew off the last curve in that hard plastic slide and slowed at the bottom. the bottom was always so flat and slick--


the bottom of this bowl is flat, and...kind of slick. more sticky from the leftover syrup. and there's a bit of the pink filling left in the depth of the spoon. i made strawberry pie earlier, for my family. kind of a cheesecake consistency. it was from a box, nothing special. i could have done better from scratch. it was still good...fresh strawberries are always good. i took them out of the plastic carton, rinsed them off and placed them in the bowl, one by one. full, red, ripe...little nuggets of perfection. i had to slice them. one by one. i did it on a paper towel, so i could watch the watery-red bleed onto the soft white of the towel and the knife slide through the thick of the fruit. overly dramatic, i know. they're just strawberries. but i love looking at the cross patterns from the knife and the splotched pink. and the smell of strawberries is divine.


divine intervention--sometimes i wish someone would divinely intervene in my life. what's going on? i'll take one of those lightning bolts You've got up there. just strike me once with some grand eye opening experience. You've done it before...i just need it again. i need something, anything. anything. just a little taste of the turkish delight?


now THAT was a beautiful set--narnia. the land where fantasy met reality through a painting, or an attic, or a wardrobe. and the lamppost. a lonely lamppost in the middle of a wood. the faun would drift in the snow, behind the trees. snow. cold. Cold. [because there is a difference between the two..]


it's so Cold. why can't you hear me? why aren't you listening...and why am i always so cold? i miss You, have i mentioned that lately. all of You. i miss a lot of things tho, a lot of things i don't suppose i'll ever have again. because You've all taken them. and nothing is forever.



on second thought, i take that back. there is one thing that is forever...



insomnia is not forever. thank God--apparently music is the key (thanks for that, i stole your idea once it seemed to work). slide some music in the 6-disc changer and let her play on random, all night long. but it's late, tonight, and i should try to sleep. ah, sleep walk. when you dream. only when i sleep. dream brother. flying in a blue dream--a beautiful piece. that's not my playlist, just random songs about dreams. and sleep.


goodnight.



just imagine my dream.