Now, where was I?

Hello again. I feel like I’ve been on a multi-month road trip, and the thing I want most is to enjoy the fine familiarity of my home. Home itself, must always be a completely subjective definition. For me, home is the sheltering structure of my family, where we share the purposeful motion of creative minds and willing hands.

Then the real fun begins, when all that lofty shit blows up.

Soapbox(Dismount.complete)

Some rooms of our home are not available at all times, and that is just the way things go.

The room in my home where I like to bang on my keyboard is a strange place, and is occasionally difficult to enter. The strange part is, I am the only thing that prevents my use of that space. I can build an obstacle out of almost anything. Today, I did not. Lucky for you, you cannot see me doing the happy-dance here at my desk.

Below is a record of one of my most recent obstacles.

boom

Small innocuous parse

peculiar portal

Every always nevery day

same old dis

dissertation de-iteration

Baby gates to and protect from

that thing most

hard to hear

Impossible to acknowledge, better to subconsciously ignore.

Didn’t matter what had been said before, then

something said by a voice

who was expected to deliver polite but

reciprocal encouragements;

just another poly-amicable pancake, ordinary exchange

Two people walked into a bar, accidentally at almost the same time. That made a total of five folks all in, not counting the staff. You should know, it was a jazz club. Or a poetry reading. Or an ACLU meeting in north Texas. You get it, right? It doesn’t matter where. The point is that these people wandered about seventeen miles off the beaten path, liked it, then kept going, got thirsty and decided to step inside for a drink.

Things were said. X told Y that he was offering cake to someone who preferred pie. Also, the tribute he thought he’d recently placed, was not even left at the correct grave. Algernon was buried in Potsdam, not Waxahachie.

Y became paralyzed, and had no idea how or why.

Ten months later, it started to make sense.

X had said, “yes, do that, keep going, tell me more.”

The unexpected compliment had almost killed him.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s