Friday, December 11, 2009

11-12-09

There's no doubt about it. I'm in a bit of a rut. I'll spare you the details because as someone smarter than I am recently pointed out, if you walk down street and get drenched then you're a fool to think it's only raining above your own head. Anyway, I wrote this a year ago and the nostalgia is still somewhat comforting.

11/23/08
I'm on a train somewhere in the Czech Republic. My mind often has trouble keeping up with the passage of space/time. I close my eyes and I wake up on the floor of my Aunt Wilodene's Indiana house. It's humid and I can hear crickets.
I wake up in Chengdu and rush down 5 flights of stairs to class. Dragonflies as big as your fist buzz by my ear.
I wake up on the hardwood floor of a hostel in Kangding, my body is covered with couch pillows and I'm shivering.
I'm dozing off in the back of a truck parked outside of Bethany's house in Keiser, Oregon.
Close my eyes and I'm straining to read Visions of Duluoz by moonlight on someone's couch in Salt Lake City.
I wake up to the smell of something perpetually burning and I'm in the study room at Emerald Cove.
Squeeze my eyes shut and I'm watching the sunset on a rooftop in Sevilla although the night is just as warm as if the sun were high in the sky.
I'm in San Diego and it's 5AM and time to get up and go to work.
I'm in Belfast but I just want to sleep.
I'm in Dun Flodigarry and the sunrise is too alluring to do so against a backdrop of the Quirangs jutting from the Northern Sea.
I'm in Oxford and it's snowing outside my 3rd story window. I turn the space heater towards me, roll over, and go back to sleep.

The train lurches to a halt and I gotta make my connection.

4 comments:

jamie said...

my head does the same. just different places.






the rain always makes me think of paris.

thekitchenboy said...

i think you sent this to me once. or shared it with me somehow somewhere. i remember it. i like it.

thank you for sharing again... it's important timing somehow.

lindsay said...

yes.

enhappied said...

I don't know what this is like, but it's sad and happy, both.