The wedding band started to play. I caught the swish of a red dress out of the corner of my eye. Before I even saw her face, I knew who it was. She approached our group, and paused just for a second, bloodlessly evaluating each of us in turn. We made eye contact. "Let's go", she said. We walked out onto the dance floor.
"Just so you know, I can't swing dance."
"Neither can I, but I bet you can fake it."
It was true. For the next five minutes we were alone, as the blaring trumpets and whirling revelers drew a curtain around our square-yard homestead. I smiled at her. I knew what I was doing this time. I was better, smarter, stronger than before. The music picked up, and she started moving faster. I felt a familiar rush as I knew I had no choice but to keep up. As I watched her, I realized that this moment had been inevitable, and I let the emotions wash over me. No matter what had happened in the past, no matter what would happen at the end of the song, for this one moment, I was chosen.
March 9, 2009
March 6, 2009
Lost
It was getting close to 4am. He stopped in his tracks and whirled around, but there was no one. He was in a questionable part of town, but he had consciously fallen behind the group and taken the longer route. He was tired of interaction.
Right now, he just needed solitude. The expanse of ice to his right was beautiful. The reflections of the city lights danced around playfully on the frozen river, but he looked away from them. The gusts of wind were like whispers in his ear which only went away when he tilted his head to either side.
His thoughts wandered along with the flickering shadows in his path. His footsteps fell on the pavement noiselessly and precisely. He wondered if the others had cared about his absence. He hoped not. He thought about everything. He thought about the night. He thought about his childhood. He thought about the world economy. He thought about the patterns in the snow. He thought about radio waves. He thought about thinking. He thought about placebos, bullets, and laundry. He thought about cancer, girls, and water absorption. He thought about space, the Mariana trench, and the homeless. He thought about intention, religion, and coca cola. But he was tired of thinking of the same things.
He tried to think about things that he couldn't imagine. He tried to ignore the assumptions about the world formed by his sub conscience, formed by society. He kept walking.
When he came to the bridge, there was no one in sight. He continued onto the bridge. It was foggy; the bridge was endless. The city lights formed a beckoning dim haze on the horizon. He stopped again. He knew that if he went back, he would be plunged back into his life. "Man is a social animal" echoed in his mind. He was unconvinced. He was unconvinced that man was an animal. He was unconvinced that man was social. He was unconvinced that man was even man.
He wanted to turn around and go in an arbitrary direction, just to prove to himself that he didn't have to go back. He wanted to walk into the unknown. He wanted nothing to be familiar. But wherever he went, he knew, he would only find familiar things in different guises - the same intentions in different people, the same gravity in different objects. Was it even possible to have a truly novel experience? Was it possible for the human mind to free itself enough to not only push the envelope, but to rip through it?
When he reached the other side of the bridge, he saw familiar streets, familiar signs, familiar shadows, familiar people. He heard familiar sounds. But he felt more lost than ever.
Right now, he just needed solitude. The expanse of ice to his right was beautiful. The reflections of the city lights danced around playfully on the frozen river, but he looked away from them. The gusts of wind were like whispers in his ear which only went away when he tilted his head to either side.
His thoughts wandered along with the flickering shadows in his path. His footsteps fell on the pavement noiselessly and precisely. He wondered if the others had cared about his absence. He hoped not. He thought about everything. He thought about the night. He thought about his childhood. He thought about the world economy. He thought about the patterns in the snow. He thought about radio waves. He thought about thinking. He thought about placebos, bullets, and laundry. He thought about cancer, girls, and water absorption. He thought about space, the Mariana trench, and the homeless. He thought about intention, religion, and coca cola. But he was tired of thinking of the same things.
He tried to think about things that he couldn't imagine. He tried to ignore the assumptions about the world formed by his sub conscience, formed by society. He kept walking.
When he came to the bridge, there was no one in sight. He continued onto the bridge. It was foggy; the bridge was endless. The city lights formed a beckoning dim haze on the horizon. He stopped again. He knew that if he went back, he would be plunged back into his life. "Man is a social animal" echoed in his mind. He was unconvinced. He was unconvinced that man was an animal. He was unconvinced that man was social. He was unconvinced that man was even man.
He wanted to turn around and go in an arbitrary direction, just to prove to himself that he didn't have to go back. He wanted to walk into the unknown. He wanted nothing to be familiar. But wherever he went, he knew, he would only find familiar things in different guises - the same intentions in different people, the same gravity in different objects. Was it even possible to have a truly novel experience? Was it possible for the human mind to free itself enough to not only push the envelope, but to rip through it?
When he reached the other side of the bridge, he saw familiar streets, familiar signs, familiar shadows, familiar people. He heard familiar sounds. But he felt more lost than ever.
March 4, 2009
Nightmare
Speed. Traffic whizzing by. Steering wheel? But he didn't have a driver's license, nor did he know how to drive. But he was driving. How was this possible? But it came naturally to him. What was he doing here? Everything seemed unfamiliar. Traffic light. Cop. Don't Stop whatever, happens, the small voice in his head said. He didn't. The cop yelled something, but he stepped on the accelerator of the bage Lexis."Whoa" - voice to his left. He looked over. What is he doing here? "Wassup man!", said Bee. "Yo." said Gary. Woah, Gary was sitting in the back? He didn't really know what to make of all this, so he just decided to go with the flow of things.
Street signs. Wait, I'm in California. I'm supposed to be in college. The Lexis veered around to the nearest freeway. At least I have nice legroom. He smiled to himself.
He stepped out of the car, and looked at the familiar dorm up in front of him. It was good to be back. The journey had been quite the experience, and it felt like years had gone by. As he entered the building, he thought back to the car travelling underwater, and was still surprised that it had worked when they crossed the river. The oxygen from the air conditioner had kept them from suffocating, he guessed, although that didn't make any sense at all.
He walked down the hallway, passing the kitchen on the way to his room. Except - there wasn't a kitchen. It was a room. I guess they did some remodelling while I was gone. Curious, he ambled to the doorway, but stopped just short as inside the room came into his line of sight.
There was a twinge in his heart. He was glued in place. What is going on? As she stood up from the desk, her short-but-not-too-short blonde hair caught the dim light and he felt the twinge again. She started turning around, but stopped abruptly the moment that her eyes locked into his. The twinge turned into a sinking feeling, but he still couldn't put his finger on why. As the first hint of sound, his eyes immediately focused on her lips. His heart sunk further. His eyes were torn between her lips and her blue-but-not-quite-blue eyes. She spoke.
"How could you?", the words barely registered. The sinking feeling started coming into focus like a blurred vision. "After two years, how could you just forget about me?", her voice fell upon him like freezing rain, as he realized the full gravity of what had happened. Of what he had done. His legs felt like jelly. "After all the time, after all the things you said you felt..." her voice trailed off. The twinge that grew into the sinking feeling had now come fully into focus. Intense depression, disappointment, horror. All blended into one.
She was the love of his life. He had lost the love of his life. He woke up.
Street signs. Wait, I'm in California. I'm supposed to be in college. The Lexis veered around to the nearest freeway. At least I have nice legroom. He smiled to himself.
He stepped out of the car, and looked at the familiar dorm up in front of him. It was good to be back. The journey had been quite the experience, and it felt like years had gone by. As he entered the building, he thought back to the car travelling underwater, and was still surprised that it had worked when they crossed the river. The oxygen from the air conditioner had kept them from suffocating, he guessed, although that didn't make any sense at all.
He walked down the hallway, passing the kitchen on the way to his room. Except - there wasn't a kitchen. It was a room. I guess they did some remodelling while I was gone. Curious, he ambled to the doorway, but stopped just short as inside the room came into his line of sight.
There was a twinge in his heart. He was glued in place. What is going on? As she stood up from the desk, her short-but-not-too-short blonde hair caught the dim light and he felt the twinge again. She started turning around, but stopped abruptly the moment that her eyes locked into his. The twinge turned into a sinking feeling, but he still couldn't put his finger on why. As the first hint of sound, his eyes immediately focused on her lips. His heart sunk further. His eyes were torn between her lips and her blue-but-not-quite-blue eyes. She spoke.
"How could you?", the words barely registered. The sinking feeling started coming into focus like a blurred vision. "After two years, how could you just forget about me?", her voice fell upon him like freezing rain, as he realized the full gravity of what had happened. Of what he had done. His legs felt like jelly. "After all the time, after all the things you said you felt..." her voice trailed off. The twinge that grew into the sinking feeling had now come fully into focus. Intense depression, disappointment, horror. All blended into one.
She was the love of his life. He had lost the love of his life. He woke up.
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