today's a good a day as any to reacquaint myself with you. and you. and you and you.
of note: yesterday, i found myself embroiled in a quasi-racial conflict based on complete and total miscommunication due to the fact that the internet is the dumbest way to express anything. all via facebook. dumb.
the day before i stripped and hammered away at some attempts at writing and recording. like a blind person trying to drive a car. i bump into a lot of things. naked. i'm not quite sure what possessed me to do this in the nude. there was a tutu also. something about being completely exposed. whatever.
the day before that, i watched the documentary centered around the making of bjork's all vocal record, medulla. completely brilliant. completely awe-inspiring and regular-inspiring. drove me to want to make music the following day. she's a goddamn genius. so thank yous for that.
today, my car blew up. i'm upset about that for many reasons. it's like losing a friend. it's my fault for procrastinating to put oil in her. i stood outside in the blistering wind on the exit ramp to lovers lane for nearly an hour because i have a totally irrational fear of cars exploding with me in them (well today i did anyway). the AAA tow truck finally came and i was treated to the presence of a lovely young man, fresh from mississippi. his little girl is his world and he learned from his father not being there during his life how to be a father. he was lucky, he told me. my precious brother allowed me use of his car so that i could work today.
and last night was the fourth night of hanukkah. eddie and i indulged in some treats and decided to light candles. i played him the song i finished the night before. he asked me what it was about and i told him. and as i was telling him, i realized many more things. as the candles burned, we both stood there watching them. slowly slowly. silently. and i started thinking about how much hanukkah makes me think of our family before it finally fell apart. it was a ritual we all participated in no matter how fucked up everything else was. i said it out loud. he was thinking the exact same thing. we continued to stand there and watch the perfectly coordinated wax melt down. we must have stood there for 30 minutes in almost total silence. and then he said, "it still hurts a little." which was exactly what i was thinking. and then we started regaling the room and each other with memories from our childhood. good and bad and everything else. and it felt good to remember, but simultaneously a dull throbbing traversed through my gut. it still hurts to talk about. and the only person that understands is him. and now i know why i haven't felt it this much in so long. we've been missing each other spatially and temporally since the break-up. i mean, basically. mom and dad told us right after i graduated and we took our final fateful vacation to the northeast. i didn't have to think or talk about 'before' with anyone because there was no one that really KNEW. but he did. and he does. and i'm grateful for the fact that there is actually someone that knows what it was like inside and can remind me of those times, no matter how hard it is to take a look. and how i can't imagine the magnified horribleness of having to go through the disintegration of your family alone.
on a 'brighter' wavelength, today at work i hung a lightbulb above my desk so i can feel like i'm in a continuous states of 'idea-ness'. so that was a good thing. and it is a good thing. and it fits. today anyway.
1 comment:
my sister and I have the exact same connection with each other regarding our family's fall apart. it helps not to feel alone in that. love you sally!
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