9.07.2005

flip sides

there is the early sadness, that's like thrashing around in dark water pushing you down and you can't breathe, like falling in the river that one time trapped under the raft. you think "i don't know how long i can survive this." later sadness is better, you can just breathe and let it go all through you and dissolve, sometimes it even feels a little bit good. it reminds you that you're alive and feeling, that you don't filter your world so much. as stupid and cliche as it is, it reminds you that right now is the flipside of how impossibly much you loved him, and that says more about you than about him. the later sadness comes on randomly though and it does tend to surprise you, maybe on the train going to work one day.

it's okay, it's all okay. there's too much human suffering going on elsewhere for me to dwell on my own (surely ephemeral) hurts for very long these days. i loved that place, new orleans. i loved it. i don't even know what to say, i don't even know what to do. i cannot look at it for very long, there's nothing to be done by me and i don't have the emotional energy right now.

but in a quiet place in the middle of all that...there is something that happens in the east bay late mornings, usually a little before noon. it is the moment when the gloom breaks up and suddenly you feel sun on your face and the world breathes a little easier. i missed that moment so much when i lived in the city. this morning when it happened it was 11:55 and i was sitting on the outdoor patio of the fsmc. as the sun warmed up my nose and people around me sighed and smiled, i packed up and walked to my noon class.

even though sometimes we forget to see them, there are still small beautiful things in life that all the other shit will never be able to touch.