Rain covered sidewalk and a backyard full of fallen leaves. A dog walk down the street. The front of my pants are wet.
For six weeks I’ve behaved like a wounded animal. Thrashing. Flailing. Snapping. Snarling.
I haven’t eaten well in weeks. I haven’t slept well in longer. I’ve lost twenty-eight pounds this summer with twenty of them coming off since the middle of September. I am frail and wounded and bleeding and I know I will recover. I know its time to stop the scratching and the screaming and start the recovery process.
Now I lick my wounds and I find my community and I gather my things and I emerge.
The internet is not my friend.
The internet is not a real place.
Cacophony cocoon. Wrapped in the noise. Buried under the ice. Suffocated. Silenced. Strong-armed. The elephant eats sideways. Laptop summer sunset. The white car. The quiet. The aftermath.
Rentable rinks. Conference room birthday parties. Garbage can lids and Garbage Pail Kids tune the records to the electronic beats. The kids wave back and forth until the drop and then the room goes bonkers.
Abandoned shopping mall in Grand Forks. It’s the one that has the pet store that sells puppies because selling puppies is a thing folks can do in North Dakota. I don’t get it and I’m not certain I want to. I do recall fondly my walks through that empty space. The same mall in Fargo was bustling. The one in Bismarck met somewhere in the middle. Minot was it’s own animal, far removed from the normalcies of modern life. It was always pleasant, but never inviting. Worth the steps though, especially after all those hours in the truck.
I digress.
I regress. I regret. I reframe houses to match my perspective. I dance in the middle of the night. I get lost in the forest until I see the same tree twice. I am invincible. I am invisible. I am nobody.