Pathetic fallacy is so obvious when it comes to the weather. I try to avoid it when I write. But I couldn't avoid it today as I walked out of the house into a world of fog. Nothing in the past 10 days has made any sense at all. I was really hoping for a ray of sun. Instead I got more murky gray dampness surrounding me. Low, thick clouds that I can't see through. Cotton in my ears. Everything sounds far away, like when the airplane descends. The whole world banks left, then right.
I am waiting for the haze to lift. I can't explain why I expect it to. I am just trying to have faith that a blue sky awaits and not storm clouds.
Maybe then I can string together a congruent thought. Maybe that's where the story turns.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Sunday, January 10, 2010
No real wisdom...
Just musings.
Endings are inherently sad things, even when they're good. I've been on an emotional rollercoaster the last few days, and now, on this side of it, I'm left feeling light, like I left gravity far behind me. But I also want to cry or scream or laugh or vomit, just to be rid of the tension that tied my muscles in knots and hasn't let go yet.
I remember nights as a teen, stepping out of the rollercoaster car. At some point during the ride the sun set, and now the lights are on all over. I didn't notice it when it happened. (Sudden memory of Dorney- watching the pink sunset sky flip upside down as my stomach jumped into my throat and tickled my insides). Just a few brief minutes before, there was that terrifying climb up the track. It seemed to take forever. That's the part I'm really scared of. And then you reach the summit, and the car comes thundering down the track, and that's the part where I laugh. The ground comes up to meet you so fast. That part, that's the last couple days of my life. Now it seems so easy to just walk off into the warm night air. On to the next ride. Not looking back.
I never contemplated that I might never ride that one again. I might never have that same thrill. Maybe that coaster I was just on was the best one I'll ever ride (I used to be a bit of a connoisseur, you see). So I'll look back, just for a second, and feel something I can't quite name. But I also think of what a shame it would be, to spend the rest of the evening riding the same ride over and over when there's still so much to see.
So yes, it's really finally over. And yes, it's a little sad. But I feel excited all the way down in my toes for what's next.
Don't you?
Endings are inherently sad things, even when they're good. I've been on an emotional rollercoaster the last few days, and now, on this side of it, I'm left feeling light, like I left gravity far behind me. But I also want to cry or scream or laugh or vomit, just to be rid of the tension that tied my muscles in knots and hasn't let go yet.
I remember nights as a teen, stepping out of the rollercoaster car. At some point during the ride the sun set, and now the lights are on all over. I didn't notice it when it happened. (Sudden memory of Dorney- watching the pink sunset sky flip upside down as my stomach jumped into my throat and tickled my insides). Just a few brief minutes before, there was that terrifying climb up the track. It seemed to take forever. That's the part I'm really scared of. And then you reach the summit, and the car comes thundering down the track, and that's the part where I laugh. The ground comes up to meet you so fast. That part, that's the last couple days of my life. Now it seems so easy to just walk off into the warm night air. On to the next ride. Not looking back.
I never contemplated that I might never ride that one again. I might never have that same thrill. Maybe that coaster I was just on was the best one I'll ever ride (I used to be a bit of a connoisseur, you see). So I'll look back, just for a second, and feel something I can't quite name. But I also think of what a shame it would be, to spend the rest of the evening riding the same ride over and over when there's still so much to see.
So yes, it's really finally over. And yes, it's a little sad. But I feel excited all the way down in my toes for what's next.
Don't you?
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