Monday, May 09, 2005

Running. Stranded.

Restless. Feet drumming. Hurriedly, repetitively, wearing out carpet. Feet want to be elsewhere. There. Anywhere. Don’t know where. Not here. Or maybe here. If it would stop feet drumming.

Mind reeling. The same tune spinning round and round. The monotony breaking it down. And still it plays. Over and over. Can’t keep mind still long enough to figure out what tune.

Can’t keep mind still. Thoughts unfinished. Don’t want to think. Want to think slower. More coherence. Want to think faster. To get on with it. No wasting time on now. The future’s begging to be caught up with. But no movement. Still here in the same place. Feet drumming. Feet still drumming.

Restless heart. Body. Mind. Soul. What else is there? Is it desire? A hidden voice screaming? Too loud to be noticed. Too soft to be ignored. What? What? What? What?

Activity. Will still the mind. And so the body. Can’t concentrate. Spill out and let it be done with. Still itching. Calm down. Breathe slowly. Okay, no more. Try again. Oh oh, can’t account for the past five minutes.

Mind wandered off. And got lost. Thoughts are lost. Not forgetting. Simply no remembrance. How is that possible? Part of me. They can’t just get lost. Can I get lost? Small parts, insignificant parts. How to tell if insignificant. No remembrance. Just slipped away smoothly and stealthily. Didn’t know it was there. Want them back. How to look. What to look for?

Too restless to look. Want to be doing something else. Don’t know what. Anything else than this. Then the other will become this. And will want to do something else. Cycle. Vicious. Got to calm down.

Will calm down. Sooner. Or later. All will be articulate. Structured. Comprehensible. Can get down to living. Making dreams. Breaking dreams. Keeping the restlessness at bay. Something might have been lost. But can’t look now. Don’t know what to look for.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

Alice in Wonderful

Alice giggled softly. She knew what they were saying about her. She could have told them that they were wrong. But it was her secret. It was all in her head, a place they would never be able to get to. She smiled.

Alice was happy. She had Jennifer. Jenny had long, black, silky hair. Everyone loved her smile. But it was Alice for whom Jennifer smiled the brightest.

Jennifer was her childhood friend. Alice never got along with her classmates. They would give her sly looks and whisper among themselves. They mostly avoided her. When they were cruel, they laughed. So Alice found Jennifer.
Jenny and she had long conversations everywhere and anywhere. Alice took care to make sure nobody heard them after the day her mother came in unexpectedly and found them talking. Her mother had given her such a queer look.

Only Jennifer understood. Jennifer was smart, and kind, and funny. She was beautiful. They had great adventures together. They would sneak out at night and run to the river. They would dive from the bridge and swim for hours in the cold water. Alice was never terrified of water when Jenny was around. They would go to the discotheque, pretending to be 18. They danced, and drank, and kissed tall, dark, handsome men, who would beg them for their telephone numbers.

But Jenny wasn’t perfect, though Alice had tried hard to make her so. Once in a while, Jenny would become adamant and sullen and refuse to listen. At such times Alice would banish her. But Alice would miss Jennifer terribly and bring her back, although only after extracting promises that Jen would be good.

The last time, however, Jenny refused to make such promises. Alice pleaded and wept bitterly through the night. When morning came, Alice slit her wrist.

She could barely remember being brought from the hospital to this place. The nurses looked at her with pity. Such fools, Alice thought. Can’t they see how happy I am? For Jennifer was with her again. Jennifer would never leave.
Alice giggled softly.