you know how when you’re watching the west wing and one of the ultra smooth,  ultra smart lines comes out of the mouths of the elitely intellectual but oh-so-human characters, and you know it’s cheesy and you know you’re a sucker being taken in by the pace and wit of really good television dialogue? and you don’t wanna go there. you wanna stay on the outside- inside your shell of realism cocooned in the cynicism that tells you and everyone around you that you’ve got a good head on your shoulders? and how even after reminding yourself that you are being manipulated by words skillfully crafted to invoke emotion in you, you still feel emotion? a lump in your throat. a watery left eye. a desire to vote. a need to do something or anything or EVERYTHING that will put all the good parts of you to work in this world. the parts that work hard, show compassion, battle injustice. you know, the times you chose to be Wonder Woman instead of Cat Woman, even though Cat Woman had a better outfit. you chose it because nothing beats the feeling of wrapping a magic lasso around the people who wanna drag you down. not because you reacted to some politically infused, well-timed banter. that was just the reminder. a reminder that there is more to you than than this last hour of television or the last ten hours of work. it’s like when the credits are rolling and you’re still sitting there with the remote in your hand, swollen with in inspiration.

you know how when you’re watching the west wing and one of the ultra smooth,  ultra smart lines comes out of the mouths of the elitely intellectual but oh-so-human characters, and you know it’s cheesy and you know you’re a sucker being taken in by the pace and wit of really good television dialogue? and you don’t wanna go there. you wanna stay on the outside- inside your shell of realism cocooned in the cynicism that tells you and everyone around you that you’ve got a good head on your shoulders? and how even after reminding yourself that you are being manipulated by words skillfully crafted to invoke emotion in you, you still feel emotion? a lump in your throat. a watery left eye. a desire to vote. a need to do something or anything or EVERYTHING that will put all the good parts of you to work in this world. the parts that work hard, show compassion, battle injustice. you know, the times you chose to be Wonder Woman instead of Cat Woman, even though Cat Woman had a better outfit. you chose it because nothing beats the feeling of wrapping a magic lasso around the people who wanna drag you down. not because you reacted to some politically infused, well-timed banter. that was just the reminder. a reminder that there is more to you than than this last hour of television or the last ten hours of work. it’s like when the credits are rolling and you’re still sitting there with the remote in your hand, swollen with in inspiration.

construction. bang! bang! bang! they’re here. i hear them coming. bang! bang! bang! might as well get up. i know they won’t suddenly start to hammer quietly. bang! bang! bang! maybe if i wait it out. don’t move. lay here with a pillow over my head. then they will realize. it will occur to them that someone in the next building may be sleeping with their head right next to where they’re about to bang! bang! bang! and i’m furious!!! that’s it! i’m going to get up and go over there right now and remind them that it’s too fucking early to be bang! bang! banging on the walls! enough already. i’m still half dreaming. maybe if i climb back into my dream. the brain is powerful. i can will myself back to sleep despite the pounding. bang! oh! only one this time. maybe they’re stopping…. bang! no. no stopping. bang! a new rhythm. bang! waiting for it now. bang! anticipating the beat. bang! what do i have to do today? bang! what did i say to my boss yesterday? bang! why did i have that last beer? bang! why won’t i go to the gym? bang! why can’t i move from my bed? bang! how will i find another job? bang! when is the electric bill due? bang! did i forget my cousin’s birthday? bang! agh. up! coffee! water! food! and finally i am dragging myself to the kitchen. mad. at the coffee pot for not being clean. and at the coffee mug for sitting too high on the shelf. and at the grinds for falling onto the floor because i can’t stop bang! bang! bang!-ing.

construction.
bang! bang! bang! they’re here. i hear them coming. bang! bang! bang! might as well get up. i know they won’t suddenly start to hammer quietly. bang! bang! bang! maybe if i wait it out. don’t move. lay here with a pillow over my head. then they will realize. it will occur to them that someone in the next building may be sleeping with their head right next to where they’re about to bang! bang! bang! and i’m furious!!! that’s it! i’m going to get up and go over there right now and remind them that it’s too fucking early to be bang! bang! banging on the walls! enough already. i’m still half dreaming. maybe if i climb back into my dream. the brain is powerful. i can will myself back to sleep despite the pounding. bang! oh! only one this time. maybe they’re stopping…. bang! no. no stopping. bang! a new rhythm. bang! waiting for it now. bang! anticipating the beat. bang! what do i have to do today? bang! what did i say to my boss yesterday? bang! why did i have that last beer? bang! why won’t i go to the gym? bang! why can’t i move from my bed? bang! how will i find another job? bang! when is the electric bill due? bang! did i forget my cousin’s birthday? bang! agh. up! coffee! water! food! and finally i am dragging myself to the kitchen. mad. at the coffee pot for not being clean. and at the coffee mug for sitting too high on the shelf. and at the grinds for falling onto the floor because i can’t stop bang! bang! bang!-ing.

reminiscing.  its like being seduced by an acoustic guitar. every other sound is secondary. it’s like when i’m in a crowded starbucks and people are chatting and the barista is yelling italian coffee phrases and the butts of the line for the bathroom are brushing against my arm. all i hear is the lull of the guitar and the country woman’s husky voice coming through the speakers. i’m in a bubble. surrounded by the sad but comfortable longing in her voice. the calm chords of the guitar making sure not to sound too hopeful. but a little. a little bit of hope in each pluck of my strings. and a slideshow of memories playing along in my head. the pictures narrating the music, instead of the other way around. warm. snuggled into the collar of his polyester shirt. wafting in the smell of oil of olay on her house coat. feeling her soft hands stroking my hair as i lay on the green and brown flowered sofa watching the fireplace, hypnotized by the sound of football in the background, the hum of the adult conversation going on above me.

reminiscing.  its like being seduced by an acoustic guitar. every other sound is secondary. it’s like when i’m in a crowded starbucks and people are chatting and the barista is yelling italian coffee phrases and the butts of the line for the bathroom are brushing against my arm. all i hear is the lull of the guitar and the country woman’s husky voice coming through the speakers. i’m in a bubble. surrounded by the sad but comfortable longing in her voice. the calm chords of the guitar making sure not to sound too hopeful. but a little. a little bit of hope in each pluck of my strings. and a slideshow of memories playing along in my head. the pictures narrating the music, instead of the other way around. warm. snuggled into the collar of his polyester shirt. wafting in the smell of oil of olay on her house coat. feeling her soft hands stroking my hair as i lay on the green and brown flowered sofa watching the fireplace, hypnotized by the sound of football in the background, the hum of the adult conversation going on above me.

truth. the truth will set you free. how often i’ve heard that phrase and thought ‘if only i knew the truth.’ but i do know it. we all do. the freedom of that phrase comes with release. the sigh breathed out when we tell ourselves not what we want to hear, but what we know is true. and most of the time we don’t know it- aren’t conscious of it- until it actually comes out of our mouths. we search and fight and expel a lie with each argument we have in our head. until we settle down. exhausted. drained. of all the rest. and then comes clarity. i always think its going to be like an epiphany- truth is enlightenment! but for me it is a tired sigh. giving up the fight. that is what makes my head clear, my eyes sore, my muscles tired, and my mind at peace. focused. my shoulders fall when there’s nothing to hold up. and there it is. that feeling in my chest. warm. tingly. like drying in the sun after a long, hard swim. like falling asleep after long, hard cry. not light. or enlightened. but heavy. solid. sure. calm. i know the truth. and it hurts. but its solid. i don’t have to look for the silver lining. i don’t have to fix. i just sit in it.

truth. the truth will set you free. how often i’ve heard that phrase and thought ‘if only i knew the truth.’ but i do know it. we all do. the freedom of that phrase comes with release. the sigh breathed out when we tell ourselves not what we want to hear, but what we know is true. and most of the time we don’t know it- aren’t conscious of it- until it actually comes out of our mouths. we search and fight and expel a lie with each argument we have in our head. until we settle down. exhausted. drained. of all the rest. and then comes clarity. i always think its going to be like an epiphany- truth is enlightenment! but for me it is a tired sigh. giving up the fight. that is what makes my head clear, my eyes sore, my muscles tired, and my mind at peace. focused. my shoulders fall when there’s nothing to hold up. and there it is. that feeling in my chest. warm. tingly. like drying in the sun after a long, hard swim. like falling asleep after long, hard cry. not light. or enlightened. but heavy. solid. sure. calm. i know the truth. and it hurts. but its solid. i don’t have to look for the silver lining. i don’t have to fix. i just sit in it.