The wind spoke without shame and the earth listened with every pore open. In tiny vessels of noise carved up like pockets in the air, the dust heaved with unhid clamour and splattered into black barks of trees. Leaves that were friendly then were angry now. Rain splashed hard on glass. On glass windows and hollow glass people. Mutilated shapes of pigeons and spiders were formed and reformed, and punished with another wet beating when the water dripped desperately down the wind shield, to the safety of a crack or a corner to hide. War cries drove more violence into the savagery of nature. Human was the only animal foolish enough to stand outside, like a weak, stupid challenge to a very angry Goddess. The roads bared every wrinkle in their surfaces, like poor men who finally had their chance to dance with the people who walked all over them. The sky watched vulgarly as bits of the world crumbled and fell in wet, writhing soil. The music rose to become static, in the thrill of speed, in a different kind of radio.
I stood at the door, and the journey had been long. I had travelled beyond distance. It was not fair to take me away again. But the wetness held my wrists and pulled. I became the idiot standing in the rain. There in the lethal sparkles of a deceptive sky, every bone hurt with a blunt kind of pain, and I let it splash all over me.
I have returned to my ultimate and my only consolation. I have been stronger before, but never more comforted. I have resigned to myself. I repent but not wholly. I am awake but not completely. The thoughts run in me like an anesthesia that numbs but weakly, and pounce in my throat when I am laughing. I am aware that I have a lot to do, a lot to change. I have to change the world. I have to dream the petty desires into a cooking pot and conveniently forget them so they burn. I cannot handle the Small. The Small is always so much harder to understand. I am so much harder to comprehend when I am feeling small. I must always be bigger than the things that happen to me. That means learning to forgive, to forget names, to still sit down and laugh with people I cannot face. That means to receive with grace the ironies of life, and take a life time at a time, not a day. That means to become a wall that no one can see through. That means to strike vulnerability in its lair- in my voice. I am not sitting, I am standing, but I am in the wrong place and the ground is where the sky should be. I am buried under the fear of growing older because it means acting older, and it takes away all my excuses. I am used to taking care of people, and I am not used to be taken care of. I am not taken care of, because I know everything. I am allowed to be free of this, because I can lie. I dont want to tell anybody what I want. This is the first time that I am writing things that people who read can understand and relate to. I dont like being related to. To be like other people is my greatest fear. It offends me. But I am like everybody. I have been good and i have been bad, and I have had my share of cliches. I have them everyday. I stand in the rain like every body, and I cry and feel stupid later. I tell myself I am above things I am not always above. I still will. I always will. Other times, I will put my mind on public display on blogspot.com. I like that people read what I write. Thank you for listening, whether or not you give a damn.
Outside in the hallway people are singing "Captain Vagina, he's a hero..." to the tune of captain planet. I go to Smith College. We have different heroes here.