tuckova

horses for the poor

I used to wish I were smaller, less physically present, that my giant brain could then be a surprise. "What a firecracker!" Well I don't want that but I did. I still wish that I could be lighter; I wish that I were not held to this place by simple natural forces like gravity and habit.

I wish I could be all the places I want, that I could spend summers in the beer gardens and winters on a beach, that the sun would always warm me and be appreciated by me without needing to go away to remind me of my needs. I wish that warmth could be a default instead of a luxury. I wish I could explore the mystery of freckles and never be sunburned. I wish that when I fell into bed at night I would still feel the salt of sweat or the sea against my skin and it would be enough; I wouldn't feel like I wished someone could hold me.

We use the past tense to express things that are impossible. See how I can follow the rules even when I say absurd things like that, or like this.

I wish that you loved me, wanted me. I wish that when your hands grazed your body like maybe accidentally in the shower or whatever, that in that moment you imagined that they were mine and let them linger. I wish that you woke with my name in your mouth, your mouth like cut fruit forming itself around the sound, and it would be real because you said it aloud.

I wish that you felt like this. 

The Rain by Robert Creeley

All night the sound had   

come back again,

and again falls

this quiet, persistent rain.

What am I to myself

that must be remembered,   

insisted upon

so often? Is it

that never the ease,   

even the hardness,   

of rain falling

will have for me

something other than this,   

something not so insistent—

am I to be locked in this

final uneasiness.

Love, if you love me,   

lie next to me.

Be for me, like rain,   

the getting out

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-

lust of intentional indifference.

Be wet

with a decent happiness.

commANNEdments

Thou shalt not read before you any comment, or any likeness of a comment that is on YouTube with the thumbs up, or that is to any news story beneath, or that is in boxes under the entertainment websites, even though they be Salon and thinkest thou that it is a fine idea. Thou shalt not suffer to cast thine eyes upon them, nor reply to them: for I AM YOUR PLAIN COMMON SENSE, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that waste their time on such stupid, stupid pursuits.

Thou shalt not argue with strangers in comment threads, nay not even the friends of friends on the book of faces, for verily every argument which is in a comment thread is both a ruination of the original post and a waste of thine own time, and thou knowest better.

Thou shalt not open the emails late at night from those that annoyest thou, for thou hast made clear that one does not suffer fools gladly; therefore let not thyself be the biggest fool.

moving the goalposts

Ten minutes and then I have to go. I've had my shower, eaten, broken a glass and cut my leg and foot with shards, swept up most of it. Still need to dress, find pens and paper. I'm going to a quiz tonight. I used to really like going to quizzes but some of the social aspects ceased to be fun and I had to quit because life is too short to do things that aren't fun. I'm still not sure if it's good for me to be in crowds, even when we are organized to a purpose which sometimes makes it easier for me. It's just too many faces, smells, ideas, people I have to think about and think about being. 

I spent a great deal of my life creating it in such a way that it makes me happy and comfortable. Making the house nice, throwing out things I don't like, collecting things that please me. Only pursuing friendships that make me happy and letting the others drift. Finding jobs that have purpose and turning down work that feels pointless or wrong. It's hard to walk away from things that I CAN do but it is harder to curl in a ball of exhaustion at the end of the day, and ugly spaces and mean people and stupid work exhaust me, even when I can manage them all. 

So now I feel like: Ok, I know what I need to avoid. And I am right that one should not do things that are not fun. But I still have maybe another 20 years to go and is this it? It is unlikely that I have found all the things that I DO like. So I try, stretch, reflect whether I've drawn my categories too broadly, like is it true that I don't like crowds or maybe I just don't like THAT crowd. I want to challenge myself to keep trying to be better at the game of being me. 

****

I went. There were dogs, yappy and fighting with each other, barking and echoing off the walls, and people walking around slamming the back of my chair, and a person with a microphone calling out thirty seconds, fifteen seconds, ten seconds, and I couldn't speak or even hear my own thoughts clearly. I think maybe I need to give up on being a quiz person. Sniff.