Friday, October 9, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
my scattered fate
from the third story window, facing the glowing yet fading east bay, i watched the magnificent crash of the bay birds diving, headfirst, like olympic highdivers, into the water. surfacing and uprighting, bobbing in the lapping waves after just a split second of being submerged. all across the shore, the most graceful and elegant kamikaze style dive bombs. amazing.
change is not meant to be hard. change is good, change is bad. change is only hard because it involves loss. the loss of the old ways, things learned, inspiration, dreams, the source of those.
the vast darkness of life rears its ugly head, pecking away at its next victim. if not within me, in others around me. time and time again. how will we ever escape.
i dreamt i was sheeting in the jib. the boom was rattling and suddenly as the boat pivoted and overturned we accidentally jibed. the boat righted and all seemed in tact until a rogue wave capsized the boat and the four of us were thrown in the blue waters. and i wasn't scared. it could have been the super buoyant life jacket and the floaty that suddenly appeared in my hands. it might has also been that the open body of water looked more like the pirate cove in the shopping mall.
a good mask for sorrow is hot sauce and a book that will make you laugh because someone else's follies are more humorous than your own. what is ironic is when the two work against you, leaving evidence with hotsauce splattered across the words that bring you to tears.
another good distraction is devouring vegetables you loathe. in this snow peas, the quintessential asian vegetable. it's sweeter, plumper cousin, the sugar snap pea is far superior and tastier was not an otpion so instead, the flattened, small pea version...well i can't underestimate the value in eating my greens. what next, undrecooked onions? yes. some opt for starvation, i am replacing my sorrow with indigestion. oh my god, someone please take it away.
as i let the hot sauce snow pea battle settle, i recognize the voice at the table next to me beloning to Angela. and one of my favorite roommate moments came rushing back to me where she recounts for me on a morning after that she overheard greg bellow for the first time, "i SO love you"and then a little more quietly, "did i just say that?". and we both laughed as i blushed recognizing how thin the walls are. eventually, i believe that was one of the reasons why she moved out. why tonight, the last days of the longest week ever, did i need to run into a roommate whom i've not seen not spoken to in over a year just to have that memory triggered? she doesn't even live in or near this neighborhood.
the air is changing. every morning when i leave the house, I think "Fall" and by the time i offboard the bus at 6th & Market, I am transported somewhere else. One day, it felt like a fall morning in Rome, instead of walking to 145 Taylor I was strolling to Palazzo Massimo. A few days later it was New York. I could close my eyes, and just listen to the quiet morning bustle, smell the cool damp air, taste the morning and I wouldn't think I was walking into the Tenderloin. For a moment, I could be somewhere else. Somewhere I've been that was still familiar to my senses.
change is not meant to be hard. change is good, change is bad. change is only hard because it involves loss. the loss of the old ways, things learned, inspiration, dreams, the source of those.
the vast darkness of life rears its ugly head, pecking away at its next victim. if not within me, in others around me. time and time again. how will we ever escape.
i dreamt i was sheeting in the jib. the boom was rattling and suddenly as the boat pivoted and overturned we accidentally jibed. the boat righted and all seemed in tact until a rogue wave capsized the boat and the four of us were thrown in the blue waters. and i wasn't scared. it could have been the super buoyant life jacket and the floaty that suddenly appeared in my hands. it might has also been that the open body of water looked more like the pirate cove in the shopping mall.
a good mask for sorrow is hot sauce and a book that will make you laugh because someone else's follies are more humorous than your own. what is ironic is when the two work against you, leaving evidence with hotsauce splattered across the words that bring you to tears.
another good distraction is devouring vegetables you loathe. in this snow peas, the quintessential asian vegetable. it's sweeter, plumper cousin, the sugar snap pea is far superior and tastier was not an otpion so instead, the flattened, small pea version...well i can't underestimate the value in eating my greens. what next, undrecooked onions? yes. some opt for starvation, i am replacing my sorrow with indigestion. oh my god, someone please take it away.
as i let the hot sauce snow pea battle settle, i recognize the voice at the table next to me beloning to Angela. and one of my favorite roommate moments came rushing back to me where she recounts for me on a morning after that she overheard greg bellow for the first time, "i SO love you"and then a little more quietly, "did i just say that?". and we both laughed as i blushed recognizing how thin the walls are. eventually, i believe that was one of the reasons why she moved out. why tonight, the last days of the longest week ever, did i need to run into a roommate whom i've not seen not spoken to in over a year just to have that memory triggered? she doesn't even live in or near this neighborhood.
the air is changing. every morning when i leave the house, I think "Fall" and by the time i offboard the bus at 6th & Market, I am transported somewhere else. One day, it felt like a fall morning in Rome, instead of walking to 145 Taylor I was strolling to Palazzo Massimo. A few days later it was New York. I could close my eyes, and just listen to the quiet morning bustle, smell the cool damp air, taste the morning and I wouldn't think I was walking into the Tenderloin. For a moment, I could be somewhere else. Somewhere I've been that was still familiar to my senses.
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