I'm sitting on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, picking at the lint on my bedroom floor. Relaxation for day's events has never gotten so simple. Hair askew, glasses creating a wall between my eyes and the world beyond, tongue curled in concentration. I've stripped my mind of everything life has ever given me except for these few things. I'm sweating, sitting in the wake of my bedroom fan. Medication is flowing through my bloodstream at an unknown rate to me, like the tiny creeks beside the school. Eyes flickering, fingers tapping. Who knew a few months off could make one so tickish?
Honestly, I've never felt so close to hell. None of today's events have involved my life individually. Absolutely none. But the fact that they all involve people that I love very much kills me with everything it could. One feeling, one sign. The rain on the field house roof. Deep thunder rumbles within as I lift some heavy weight. This feeling is so clean, but there's something going on. Because this morning I could of sworn I was in your arms. And now somethings missing. Rain. There's rain outside. And I put on that jacket. And somehow, I know. Something has gone horribly wrong. Because downtown, my mother is in that same tri-hospital city, hearing that same ambulance, and those same emergency doors. Unknowingly, she says a prayer of thanks, not knowing who that ambulance is for. As I'm crashing in the parking lot. Rain on this sacred jacket I decided to put on. About to throw up all that this morning has brought me. I bite my lips, breaking to bleeding, and look up to the skies with a bitter grimace. And for the first time, in a long time, I'm very, very afraid.
While someone else is battling at home. Waking to sounds of spitfire. Words unlovingly laid out on the kitchen table, like unpaid bills from the mailbox. I can only imagine the terror. The frustration of not being able to sleep, and wanting it to stop. Because thankfully, I'm blessed with a great life and great things. I look into those eyes and I see nothing but sleep deprivation. Nothing but sadness, worry and anger. My heart lurches. I offer a silent bed for the night. Tell her thing's work out over time. That something will happen. And with tired eyes she nods, hugs and leaves. And I'm left there to eat my apple, ripping into it with the force that my lunchbag has never seen before. There's pain in that face. I can see it. And again, I'm afraid.
This is one of the biggest weeks of my life. Preparing to become an adult, under the church, well, it's an important thing. I'm feeling the weight of all that is around me. I'm being tested. My faith is on the line. With the grip of no other, I'm holding on for dear life with the determination of everything I have. I'm fighting the first battle of my life, for the people I love.
So I lay here, staring at the ceiling, from the carpet below. Music encircles my head. I'm calming. Medication is slowing. I'm lulling away, to a far away land of sleep. I crawl into bed, and type a fervid "I love you" before time ends. I shiver. I shake. My lips quiver with tire and worn out worry. I'm done for the day. I want it all to be better. I want everyone's lives to fix. To be better.
But all I can do is listen. Witness. Watch from this glass that separates me from the world beyond, pounding violently on this barrier, not knowing what to do next.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
A Question of Greatness.
What a wonderful Friday. How nice is it to fall asleep at midnight and wake up at seven? To get a full night's worth of sleep is so rare these days; cross country started a few weeks ago. Silly me, to think that we'd break from waking up early. But believe me, it's really not all that bad anymore. I'm actually really looking foreword to the upcoming season. After our workout Thursday morning we had time to talk about the meets in detail. If you'd happen to pass by us on any given practice day, you'd think we were some kind of deranged family. Seriously.
So today, last period, in my desktop publishing class, we had our usual opening journal. Tired as I was from today's "exciting" events [feel the sarcasm yet?] this prompt really caught my attention. It was a simple 'What is Greatness?' One of those one sentence questions that you either answered with a definition, or if you're like me, descriptions. Once everyone started to read this, the kid right next to me said "What kind of trash question is that? I AM GREATNESS." As much as I thought it was stupid, I had to laugh. This is a senior I look at failblog and fml with so you see where I get the humor.
But I decided to hold my real response in until I got home and got a real opportunity to write down thoughts.
Because simply put, greatness is everywhere. At least to me it is. It's the extra hour you get during daylight savings, and the sleep made up for in the summer from school. Making giant chocolate chip cookies and watching the rain fall outside when it's dark. Driving in the car with your best friend. Wayfarers and paint splattered jean shorts, frayed from the summer sun. New guitar strings and the last few steps of a morning run. It's quality time spent with family and friends. Road trips and traveling. State borders passing in the distance, miles ticking away. Stained glass church windows and Nikon cameras I can only dream about owning. Greatness is here in your arms and somewhere down the road. Here and there. Morning pancakes and evening tortillas. Saying 'I love you' and closing your eyes to sleep. Ice baths and black sage tea in the hot afternoon. Flamenco dancing and willing your sorrows away. Greatness is very simple: it's just great.
I could write so much more. But I have things to do. I'll probably end up in the middle of the street in a good twenty minutes or so. Lay on the pavement, middle of the street, and watch the sunset as it bleeds under the horizon. Watch watercolor-like shades of reds, pinks, yellows and purples wash away, as I witness the sky fade to black.
Right then. In that particular moment..I'll be experiencing greatness.
When will you?
So today, last period, in my desktop publishing class, we had our usual opening journal. Tired as I was from today's "exciting" events [feel the sarcasm yet?] this prompt really caught my attention. It was a simple 'What is Greatness?' One of those one sentence questions that you either answered with a definition, or if you're like me, descriptions. Once everyone started to read this, the kid right next to me said "What kind of trash question is that? I AM GREATNESS." As much as I thought it was stupid, I had to laugh. This is a senior I look at failblog and fml with so you see where I get the humor.
But I decided to hold my real response in until I got home and got a real opportunity to write down thoughts.
Because simply put, greatness is everywhere. At least to me it is. It's the extra hour you get during daylight savings, and the sleep made up for in the summer from school. Making giant chocolate chip cookies and watching the rain fall outside when it's dark. Driving in the car with your best friend. Wayfarers and paint splattered jean shorts, frayed from the summer sun. New guitar strings and the last few steps of a morning run. It's quality time spent with family and friends. Road trips and traveling. State borders passing in the distance, miles ticking away. Stained glass church windows and Nikon cameras I can only dream about owning. Greatness is here in your arms and somewhere down the road. Here and there. Morning pancakes and evening tortillas. Saying 'I love you' and closing your eyes to sleep. Ice baths and black sage tea in the hot afternoon. Flamenco dancing and willing your sorrows away. Greatness is very simple: it's just great.
I could write so much more. But I have things to do. I'll probably end up in the middle of the street in a good twenty minutes or so. Lay on the pavement, middle of the street, and watch the sunset as it bleeds under the horizon. Watch watercolor-like shades of reds, pinks, yellows and purples wash away, as I witness the sky fade to black.
Right then. In that particular moment..I'll be experiencing greatness.
When will you?
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Oceans in the Sky
Come down. Long and hard, strands of translucent ribbon. These million drops of life that feel like breathing to me. After a seemingly endless day at work, I walk outside to an ocean from the sky. Rain falling like tiny beads. Glassy bullets that don't kill, but revive. These miracles from up above. These things.
The road is scantily occupied. Little lakes form between curbsides and completely full storm drains, gurgling as if they were drowning, gasping for air. As if we're at a water park, the windshield is constantly bombarded by waves, dipping the car this way and that. I'm soaking wet, but the Cadillac provides momentary shelter. Shivering as drippings from my v-neck collar slither down my stomach, cutting like ice. Tears from Mother Earth have never felt so marvelous.
Sky, so gray and ominous. With little patches of light, here and there. Soft pinks and blues try to break through Storm's hearty fortress. It's a losing battle. Fierce, beautiful lightening, pure and white, split the sky with amazing grace. They appear in jagged patterns, looking like the bluish-purple veins that show through the halfway opaque skin of a young child. Through the flesh they are markings of concentration, as if Mother Earth herself is concentrating. All of this rapid energy, surging, growling into long soundtracks of thunder. The background to a beautiful spring day.
Arriving home has never felt so good. The promise of food and dry clothing enters my mind. But before I may indulge in such things, I feel the need to walk outside. The rain is still steady, flowing down concrete. I stand before my house, staring upwards into the cold abyss. There's a pin-sized white light, slowly pulsing in the distance. I stare at it through the walls of water. The wail of the tornado sirens heats my mind with possibilities. I'm almost certain things won't get that crazy, but who knows? I take one last breath, fresh and clean, before walking back to the house.
Humid mornings never turned into such wonderful wet afternoons.
The road is scantily occupied. Little lakes form between curbsides and completely full storm drains, gurgling as if they were drowning, gasping for air. As if we're at a water park, the windshield is constantly bombarded by waves, dipping the car this way and that. I'm soaking wet, but the Cadillac provides momentary shelter. Shivering as drippings from my v-neck collar slither down my stomach, cutting like ice. Tears from Mother Earth have never felt so marvelous.
Sky, so gray and ominous. With little patches of light, here and there. Soft pinks and blues try to break through Storm's hearty fortress. It's a losing battle. Fierce, beautiful lightening, pure and white, split the sky with amazing grace. They appear in jagged patterns, looking like the bluish-purple veins that show through the halfway opaque skin of a young child. Through the flesh they are markings of concentration, as if Mother Earth herself is concentrating. All of this rapid energy, surging, growling into long soundtracks of thunder. The background to a beautiful spring day.
Arriving home has never felt so good. The promise of food and dry clothing enters my mind. But before I may indulge in such things, I feel the need to walk outside. The rain is still steady, flowing down concrete. I stand before my house, staring upwards into the cold abyss. There's a pin-sized white light, slowly pulsing in the distance. I stare at it through the walls of water. The wail of the tornado sirens heats my mind with possibilities. I'm almost certain things won't get that crazy, but who knows? I take one last breath, fresh and clean, before walking back to the house.
Humid mornings never turned into such wonderful wet afternoons.
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