lateralizing

{ September 28, 2010 @ 11:25 am } · { Uncategorized }

I went to the shores the other day. Picked up a stray pebble noticing the moss it had gathered. How long had it been here? I wound myself like reaching for the stars. Spirit outweighed power. Power outweighed strength. I launched it and held position; arms empty; mouth open. I asked the pebble how far the shore looked from there. It sunk. So much for my answers.
 
They had all set out to sea. Big ships, cozy ships, comforting ships, strong ships, ships that would make it past the first night, those that wouldn’t and what not. Their ships and mighty sails scooped out large chunks of the wind. I looked up and saw nothing different.

I also picked up a few shells to check for a few stray currents of laughter or words. Even the breeze that had touched those sails would have done just fine. But instead, I heard a lot of stillness and a lot of turbulence. The hushed sounds were sharp, they pierced my ears and I was still trying hard to listen.

I urged my reluctant legs into the sea but the strings attached to my head seemed to be stronger that the ones attached to my chest. Or was it the other way round? I scratched the seaweed of my scalp trying to find out. The current pushed me out as the undertow pulled me in. I’m only one body, so what if the rest of me is pulling me apart. I succumbed. I stayed.

My face is pinned to this wall. It has soothing thorns and tormenting roses growing all over. If this is the prison wall, I better find out pretty quick which way is in and which ones out. They all look the same. Inviting, reproachful.

The waves don’t help either. The saline cold pushes me back. Standing on the shores and staring at them is no good. I brave my cowardly attempts and fill half my glass with rough adventures and thrills. I walk back and fill the other half with a neutralizing sense of security. I empty my glass and go looking again.

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