She says be like the pebble, sometimes rolling on the stream bottom – let the water’s fine treble smooth out the sharp and rotten parts of me that are preventing my progress to the ocean; at this rate, I’ll never leave. She says relax your eyes a bit and stop judging so fast. She says not everything is determined by the past – some things only happen because the future made it so – she says its backwards but its actual and really hard to know. She says there’s tension in my shoulders and asks how much I drank. I feel like I never answer and she carries me away to bed and puts a blanket on me and kisses me goodnight. I know it’s her because her trademark is to leave the hallway light on for me so if I need water or a book then I can see. She’s always thinking about little things to make me more happy. I suppose I must say something but I can’t ever remember. I wonder privately where she gets this idea that I’m so clever when I retrace conversations I only know her parts. She says I need to relax, it’s just as much an art as putting words onto some paper or earning steady wages – when we lie about our ages, we both add a hundred years.

~ by perfectionatrix on October 26, 2011.

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