August 24, 2009

• Bits and Bits

  I haven't yet decided if writing is a way of escaping the life that involves everyday things like feeding yourself and making sure your rent is paid, and hoping and praying that members of your family survive another day (because life is sometimes an interminable jungle of things), or if writing is an everyday thing, like talking to oneself in the mirror in the morning before teaching a class of young and possibly uninterested students.

  But it helps regardless, helps me to organize the bits. Put some of it into black mental boxes for future sorting at appropriate times. In my mind I write titles. There are a few that say "Childhood", one that says "Places to Travel", one named "Things that Scare Me". That one overflows. There needs to be at least three more boxes to fit all of those bits. But I refuse to produce them. They will all eventually fit into one box. One says "People I love", but inside that one are smaller boxes, with further categories and many with names. This box sits directly next to "Worries". That box has no cover; no need since it's always open. Some boxes have deep insides and never-ending bottoms; the better to fit more bits in.

  It's all the same in the real world, but sometimes writing is the only way the constant grasping at the smoke that is control, that is comfort, that is some form of understanding life becomes bearable.

  • 1:16 pm
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