These are the things I’ve written lately, or said out loud, that I have liked, and liked a lot.
- My work life is a pile of feathers.
- You can’t actually hold on to anything. Thats the illusion. The struggle is in wanting to hold on, when you can’t, even though it hurts. You can’t. You’re grasping at waves. Whatever it is, its already gone.
- My creative life is in a cave in the cliff wall, somehow managing to be dry and warm despite being just meters from a stormy sea.
- When I am old, I want the kitchen table to remind me of my children, for my memory to roll easily through the past.
- Pick up the phone before it is too late. Call the elderly man who reminds you of your loss. Call his familiar voice and hear an old familiar story. Let it be so. Suck in the things he needs to apologize for and grovel for. He will not and doesn’t need to know he should. It makes no difference now. It just doesn’t. When you imagine all the perfect things said, said to perfection, it still just doesn’t matter, doesn’t change a thing, and somehow, the fact that I am carrying this, even as a fleeting thought, is the image of absurdity.
There it is. A list of somethings rather than nothings. A pile of feathers indeed.