I was standing in my empty closet today. in the house alone. I stared down the odd shaped barrel of the empty hangers, and looked out at the world from the former perspective of my not-in-use clothes. the closet is a good place to sing. better than the shower even. almost everything is packed now and the closet is hugging me. i'm going to miss this palace. it's fortified, it absorbs the strains and places them carefully into a slot somewhere deep in the old wood and plaster, willingly offering the service, as if we were old friends. and so we are...and this a much older and wiser monolith of existence than i.
i leave now with no regret, with cautious hopefulness for the future. but i also leave knowing things will never be the same, a feeling described at best as oddly requiting. and in the sea of uncertainty i meet a school of seahorses and a small swimming dog, themselves the ultimate manifestation of peculiarity. what do i make of this? these things? there are many difficult decisions ahead.
No comments:
Post a Comment