(dreaming, but not acting)

Posted by on 04.22.10 | 1 Comment
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the way i see it, it might start with a gift. A delivery. An unexpected
thing, wrapped up tight, but not necessarily neatly, and it might or
might not have your name on it. It might be box-shaped, and it probably
won’t be dripping, but it will be out of the blue. So your child rushes
it into your sanctuary your home and awaits treasure even as your adult
eyes it suspiciously, watching for someone to pull the other end of the
string and snatch it away, or for it to start emitting some toxic fumes
that will turn your toenails to dust, god-be-prayed-to that it’s only
that bad. But you from the moment it was spotted knew that you’d open
it. And now you are simply honoring it, having put it on something
about waist-high so that you could get a good look. And you are just
trying to take in this moment, this moment of savoring that fleeting
sense of the gift, because it is well known that the chances of the
gift being bad news versus good are very ripe indeed. Is this it? Is
this the very thing that you’ve been…

I’d like to back up. The way I see it, it might also start with a bus
ride. Likely, it will be a normal day, partly cloudy, and you’ve got a
light jacket on with a broken zipper pull. You are going to the
library, or to run errands, or to shop at the last minute for a
mother’s day gift. Traffic might be terrible, and you’ve been kind
enough to give your seat to an older woman, or a child, or someone who
showers less than you do (and you are trying very hard to not
noticeably notice), so you are hanging on to the strap and mostly
thinking about that if there was an Olympic sport for bus-strap
surfing, navigating the stop-and-go without spilling that coffee that
you brought with you, you are in prime bus-athletic-Olympics position
to be hearing your national anthem played. But as you look at your
coffee very closely to make certain that not one drop is spilled, you
are intrigued suddenly by the…

The way I see it, it might continue with nothing at all. A string of
days when one wonders if Godot is coming after all. And if he has
already come, would you even have noticed so busy waiting as you were?

The way I see it, it might continue with a full-body laugh. The kind
that happens when utter delight meets utter surprise meets utter

(but i have been stuck dreaming, and not acting)



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