I took a class once that basically told me my brain doesn’t think most of my life is worth remembering. And so, in walking around, in seeing things, sometimes I wonder about what I’ve seen that will escape forever. Moments with nothing to be remembered by… and so… for those instances that made me smile, that gave birth to a thought, for those not-s0-special times, here’s a post to acknowledge you happened today and that I remembered:
1) I saw a guy with a shirt that read “My girlfriend is out of town,” and on his face he carried a coy look as he walked beside a girl. I smiled.
2) This morning, my mother killed an ant that was crawling up a vase but in a valiant fight before death took over, the little black segments constituting a miniscule life had been able to pierce skin and draw blood. She held up her finger and there, like a colored pearl sat a droplet of the most beautiful red. While she wiped and wiped and wiped onto a fresh white tissue, I stared at the blood seep and spread and realized that it was the perfect shade of red that I’ve always been in search of.
3) On the bus to work, I watched the people on the streets balance umbrellas with bags and the lifting up of pant legs and skirts. The rain flood onto the street in murky browns that carried a hint of the sewer’s scent… the ripples on the thin layer of water made me think of poorly spread icing.
4) The girl on the micro who couldn’t have been more than 16, I saw the cemetery headstone rows of little cuts – some that were fresh and some that had taken their time to heal. I noticed.
5) My coworker is weary. In her tired but still makeup-ed eyes I see the dimming light, in her voice still loud but not as strong and in her fragments of words, the tearing down of sanity is something I immediately recognize. We’re all in need of a vacation.