Monthly Archives: May 2013

Stranger

“Anonymity is overrated.”

She sighed, speaking to no one in particular, as no one in particular would have been able to hear.

Every single person passing by was a potential friend, a potential lover, a potential enemy. What constitutes the overture of a hello? What invites the cultivation of these potentials? What calls for the personal intrusion of one life into another?

She’d seen the same woman in blue close behind her on both sides of the street. Did the very coincidence of directional solidarity create a foundation for conversation? Likely not.

An interesting sign, a particularly funny set of buildings, a silly business name.

She was to experience these things as a stranger, strangely alone and strangely uncertain of what they would mean. These would one day provide her with topics of conversation, a casual reference of something familiar, but today they would merely be pieces of trivia to store away, alone and unnoticed.

To be a stranger is to be unknown.

It is the casual forced smile. It is awkward prolonged eye contact followed by looking away and walking on by. It is wondering what would happen if you interrupted a conversation. It is debating whether to tell someone they are beautiful.

To be unknown is to be uninvited. How do you find an invitation?

What Shapes You

“I literally have no idea who I am right now.”

The unrefined string of words seemed pathetically lacking once strewn haphazardly onto the table. It felt tasteless, void of the impact they truly held; the meaning utterly lost in translation.

She doubted her companions were chewing over the thought as much as she did. Their compassionate reassurances were received thankfully, yet she doubted how comprehensively they understood her deeper meaning.

Suddenly you are standing alone, fully alone, to deal with the consequences. Not only of what Life itself has brought you, but to stand atop the apex of your choices. Who are you?

This full realization of your bullheaded leadership and principled decision-making has brought you into the light, naked and utterly left to your own devices. You are brought to your knees. The weight comes and goes.

You have nothing beyond your convictions.

Do you spend time based on who you are, or does the way you spend your time shape you?

Are you the sum of your experiences, or are you the potential of experiences yet to come? Further yet, are you the sum of all your experiences past and future combined into one now?

If you would never have done something yesterday that you will do today, does that change who you will be tomorrow? Were you not in fact the same person, only under the misconstrued notion that you would never have done such a thing?

At times we live our entire lives under the illusion of self, only to lose the very foundation on which we had built such a self. Who are you, truly, without the foundation of another Self to build upon?

It is as if someone has suddenly turned on a very bright light and you are afraid of what you will see when your eyes adjust.

The Curse of Thinking

“It always boils down to the fact that I think too damn much.”

The words faded into the emptiness of the car. She sat in silence for a moment and began to doubt whether she’d actually spoken aloud.

The smell of rain came in through the cracked windows. Asphalt danced with the lingering scent of wet rubber and heated air. Another twenty minutes, and she would be home. Another twenty minutes, and she would be cloaked in the comfort of her own scents in her own bed. Another twenty minutes, and she would be free to sit idly and continue to think.

However, she thought to herself, I don’t want to think.

Thinking led to thoughts, which led to speculation and deliberation over events that would never come to pass nor even present themselves — due only to the fact they had been driven away by the mere idea of their existence. Thoughts, which led to confidence and bravado one moment, yet gave way to doubt and insecurity the next.

In one moment a thought may appear to be a brilliant idea, the birth of a moment made of innocence and truth. Once continued thinking is allowed, the next moment will reveal that very same thought will reveal a darker nature. One of selfish desire, often infused with subtext and ulterior motive.

It is this, then, that strangles the subsequent potential for any direction the hatchling of a thought may have taken if allowed to spread its wings. The true nature of the thought is suffocated, assumed guilty until proven innocent.

True, free spontaneity dead at the hand of thought.

Places To Be

“And yet all I have done is establish I can’t get anywhere by noon.”

The tepid stare coming from across the desk left her wondering whether that had been the correct thing to announce at this precise moment in her life, to the particular people in this particular room.

“I see,” grumbled the mustached man, his overly round bifocals seeming to adjust themselves in contempt.

Her application papers sat uncomfortably under his nose as he let out a sigh. If paper could smell, she was curious what it would think of his breath.

The woman who seemed much too old to be as young as she looked shifted rigidly in her seat and adjusted her suit jacket.

It was peculiar to our young applicant that everyone present in the room was in fact present of their own volition. The mustached man attempted brief eye contact with  the woman in the suit, but failed miserably. It appeared that the woman in the suit was only in the room with her body.

Where does a person go when they have vacated the room, but left their physical presence? It was these things that distracted the mind of the applicant as she solicited something appropriate to indemnify her announcement.

Nothing came.