1.
It all ends and begins in tears doesn’t it? Tears of joy, of sorrow. Tears seeping out of the eye duct. Tears along the placenta, the uterine wall. Tears along the aorta.
2.
And they said unto him, ‘You will be promised many things. You will live with the knowledge that you are meant for greater things. You will live under the shadow of vast accomplishments you have yet to undertake. And it will be impressive. But take heart: the moment of your arrival will never come. You will wake everyday thinking that today will be the day of your eternal greatness, but it will never come to pass. You will sense at the edge of your fingers that you could have done something great today, but you never will. You’ve been graced only with the anticipation of what could have been. It will always nag you, it will always hang at the edge of your perception. That sense of more, that sense of greatness, that sense that you too, could have been a god, if only you weren’t you…�
3.
Barely the third day and I�m already tapped out. The fear of the meta-writing, the direct “I can’t write anymore” writing. No, none of that, but it isn’t easy. This was never easy.
4.
I wanted to spill out onto the floor like sunlight in an empty house and fill rooms with warmth and memories in the corners of walls and have stars of dust kick up and shimmer and the edges of staircases soften to the touch and the glass of the panes would not stop me and the floor boards would not stop me and even the foundations would greet me.
5.
How about a her? How about her? How has she been? Alright I guess. You don’t talk anymore? Of course we do, we’re married aren’t we? Well, you�ve both been getting around… It doesn’t mean we don’t talk, just that we don’t fuck….. Ok, that didn’t really work at all.
6.
Try again, try harder. From the book, a scribble: She collects the rent. It�s become a full time job between dropping off the kids at school and picking them up. Her routes weave in and around the West Side and she’s figured out a way to always been within striking distance of the school should the dean or the headmistress need to contact her. She also keeps an aluminum bat in the car because a wooden one will crack if you miss. It’s gotten its fair share of use, scratches criss cross the length of the shaft and the blunt tip is pock marked with craters and specks of what could have been blood. She keeps it in the trunk under the blanket that covers the spare lest the kids take it by accident and she finds herself needing it on her route. At least once a week if not a day. But today she shouldn’t be needing it all, just a stroll in the park, literally.
7.
But what happens here is, I get bored. Or I can’t see it further.