Time is so short
and I’m sure
There must be something
more -
- Coldplay
When I turned 10, I was visiting Israel for the first time since I moved there, left there.... My grandmother bought me a yellow shirt and skirt set. The skirt was ruffled and the outfit had little black polka dots. I thought it was the best thing ever, and I remember thinking, even then, what an amazing thing she did, a woman over 70, going into a neighborhood boutique, buying this outfit for her youngest granddaughter. It must have been expensive, but I was 10. How did I know about things like that? I still think of her often. Thinking of that summer and seeing her face clearly hurts like hell. I can't believe how much I miss her. Why didn't I tell her I loved her more?
When I turned 20, I was psychotic. I broke up with my boyfriend of more than a year -- an eternity when I was 20 -- and I was on Paxil and smoking cloves -- and basically I wasn't me. I sorted myself out pretty quickly after that. I came to the realization that I wasn't a baby anymore. How destructive I could be. My footprint on life, on others, was firmly planted, and no matter how I tried to un-do things, they couldn't be undone.
I'm turning 30 in just over a week from now. Who knows what the day will entail, what I will be feeling, who I will be missing or pissing off... I'm not really excited about turning 30. Part of me doesn't want to be an adult, ever! But a lot of me wants to change, to fit into my skin. To like people again and not be so afraid of them. To like cleaning floors. To be a mother. To be a really great wife. To go to a Coldplay concert. Life doesn't end at 30, I know. Life continues.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Little Blue Flower: Preface
Exile -- Ellen Bryant Voigt
The widow refuses sleep, for sleep pretends
that it can bring him back.
In this way,
the will is set against the appetite.
Even the empty hand moves to the mouth.
Apart from you, I turn a corner in the city and find,
for a moment, the old climate, the little blue flower everywhere.
The widow refuses sleep, for sleep pretends
that it can bring him back.
In this way,
the will is set against the appetite.
Even the empty hand moves to the mouth.
Apart from you, I turn a corner in the city and find,
for a moment, the old climate, the little blue flower everywhere.
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