Sunday, September 18, 2011

I'm Supposed To Be Doing Homework

I really am.  But I just can't settle into it this evening, and I really don't know why.  So many different thoughts are buzzing in my head.  So many different feelings are competing in my chest.  I can't direct my thoughts in a practical, steady way.  They're mercurial and slippery, changing from here to there far too smoothly to focus on the construction of Proscenium Theaters or the correct way to build a flat.

Too visceral to analyze my pirouettes.  Too quick moving to select an outfit for mock auditions.  Too . . . much.  And many.  And varied.  Swirling in my head and my heart, until it is as though just my face and chest are under water.  It is peaceful and oppressive under here, all at the same time.

I'm in the happiest, saddest place in the world right now.  Today marks the end of any illusions of comfort, of safety, as the last legal barrier between the old dark and the new life for my family slips away.  The barrier for myself - the no trespass order at my school - stays the same.  But what is the use of being safe if you have no confidence in the security of those you love?  It's also natural, I suppose, for my mind to wander off into territory I generally try to avoid, like the dark thicket just off the safe trail you usually walk.  This tints me with melancholy.

On the other hand, today was a serene fall day.  I went to a later Mass than I typically attend, with a group of friends.  There are no words in my limited vocabulary to describe the glow in my heart as I reached out my hands during the Our Father and found the warm, secure, tight grip of kind people on either side.  The way my soul sighed as our voices joined the rest of the congregations, giving strength to my wavering will.

There were so many times I thought I'd just drift away with the golden leaves today, carried in the ice cold riptide barraging my spirit.  Then a friend caught my eye from across the room, or brushed my hand with theirs.  A hand has fallen on my shoulder, and like a rock dropped in a pond, it has settled right down to the bottom of me.  And I realize I have a bottom.  I am solid, and physical, and real.  I can't drift away.  There are hands to hold and songs to sing, and I must follow this trail of warm human contact so I don't loose myself behind my own eyes.

I'm so very outside myself tonight; I feel like when I lift my eyes to the moon, I could drift off and touch it with the tips of my fingers.  Hold it in the palm of my hand.

I'm so deeply inside myself today, I fear when my roommate walks by me, she won't raise her eyes.  Because there is nothing there to see: I've swallowed myself up, into the rattling in my chest and the whispering behind my eyes.

I am melancholy and peaceful tonight, and I fear very little homework will be done.

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