2009 on entry —–
I am so busy I hear you in a blur and see you on those days after Friday. I look at those blue eyes now covered in a storm of black hair and can’t wait until I see you taking in the morning sun with tired eyes and a glowing spirit. For you and the monster Meme I wait hoping to see you again between the Sausage Shop and the Polish Bar where they love me so much, my little girl.
2012 on exit—–
I posted this a long time ago, and post it again as I leave this monstrous and vulgar city that is a place of opportunity for the minions of code programmers, bull ball traders, and floozies. The sausage shop is now closed and the Polish bar has become trendy. The mice have taken over the home I moved you into, and strangers sit on the porch you filled with water one night when we called you Sari & The Sea.
In a city that never reads anything other than movie-books, I found a few moments worth remembering in this mess that you made a home in. I am happy to leave, but since I am nostalgic by nature, I am glad I put you on this ledge and let you learn to fly. Once I called you Little Rabbit, Emilyshrine, and more, but now I put you into a pocket of memory that turns to dust in the movements of exit.
The road we travel has been divided for a long time now, but you were a muse, and in all the chaos, I produced a work of art that spanned hundreds of pages.
Her Two Cents
There’s a game I play every time I find a coin on the ground. After identifying the year (which has become increasingly more challenging as the years tick by) I spend a moment recalling memories and events that took place during that time. I try to focus on the upbeat, and some years are better for that than others. It’s easier to identify the positive outcomes when there’s more distance in the rear-view mirror. This message prompted me me to look back on 2009 – for me, it was a year of quiet beginnings; an early Spring of sorts. Events that came in subsequent years made their entrance in 2009. Events that came in subsequent years made their exit in 2012. It makes me wonder how this year will be viewed next year, and the year after, and the year after that. What appears insignificant now may be viewed as transformative later on. Start. Stop. Come. Go. Begin. End. What are the exit lights shining on? When you look through the window of the airplane carrying you away, what do you see?