Monday, December 1, 2008

Things Ashtree C(Sh)ould Write About, a List

untitled, shesaskeleton

____1. there is dust everywhere. when i walk my skin is covered in a thin film of white. i am a moonwalker. a dustmite. a limestone creation. sometime soon this dust will coalesce into a moon in my own backyard. (gravity always wins the day). do you know anything about my new moon?

____2. dance danse danz

____3. this morning when i woke up, at 7:23am, i stood waiting for the water filter to notice my cup and fill it. i was holding 15 tissues because my eyes are watering, my nose is running, my face is numb and my sneezes via butterfly effect are altering the course of light rays coming from distant supernovas) i heard next door, the early-rising children already laughing and running (on imagined grass my imagination colored a perfect green), through the intervening walls and fences, their sound was muffled. a sort of high-pitched gigglaughter that sounded as though it was moving with definite precision from one place to another (i think living room to trampoline outside). i was overjoyed for reasons that did not make themselves known to me.

____4. there is water here:

________all these pieces, black and swift
________are moving through themselves

____5. - why are you not where i am?
__ ___- what does that mean?, what kind of question is that?
__ ___- maybe it was rhetorical i don't know.
__ __ _- don't say things you dont' know.
____ _- distance is a bitch.
__ _ __- yeah. ____(what kind?
__ _ __- huh?
__ _ __- what kind of distance?
__ _ __- how many kinds are there?
__ _ __- [she smiles sadly]

____6. New York. (which has become soo many intangible things in my head, for reasons i am cognizant of) (and which scares and thrills me) (and has all the illusion of the other trophies that gather dust in boxes)

____7. (I'm always happy)
yeah, but the baseline for you is like 7-8, so we want you to feel 9-10. if you're a 6 we worry. whereas with me, a 6 is like the best day ever.

____8. funerals. i attended one on friday too. i wore my grandfather's tie. i felt selfish because i couldn't concentrate on who i was supposed to be praying for (i didn't know him, i know his family, and they cried alot). and i had no seat, so i concentrated on my shoes in front of me, and felt the back of my suit stretching (which i didn't like). i felt beads of sweat from the consistent sun. i wiped them always right to left (in hopes of not disturbing the part in my hair). there was a young woman who looked very familiar standing to my left who kept staring at me when i looked away. more crying from somewhere inside the chapel. god i'm thirsty. i'm intimately conscious of the contours of the soles of my feet. i feel a centimeter above the ground. is that enough?, i don't know. (i check my watch again, it keeps going, on and on, but i know once it's all done, we'll wish we'd had a little more time)

____9. but this doesn't make any sense. why is everything about you, how can i write about you?
you don't. write for yourself. we all experience the same things anyway. just with different names, and different dates and the trains i remember have yellow handrails and your car is silver and trees sound almost the same everywhere. see?

____10. who? ____what?

________(yes, exactly)

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