I am stupified. Thrown asunder. Tossed about. My mind is swirling. Nothing makes sense. Laughter seems irrelevant. A code. A cloak. Protection from the dark under current. A hundred years come swirling back. Complete in an instant. Reverted. Returned to an old way of being. Old style. Familiar in its awkwardness. Tragedy unfolding. Unfurled. Presented like a folded flag to the widow. Symbolic. Time gone by. Never to return. And yet it is here. In full force. Footsteps on oak leaves outside the window in the middle of the night. An imagination running wild. Fears so vivid. So readily available. At the touch of a finger. A siren. A flag. Voices whispering in another room. Another part of the house. A cough. Luxury. The soft whimper of a cat at your late arrival. A head spinning. I feel like I'm floating and held down at the same time. Was he flirting? Was she lying? Was she aware? Am I here right now? Or am I still in that living room? Those dead bodies. Moving about. Making gestures. Signaling an intent. Flirting with the past. Putting a feast before your eyes. But everything is years old, rancid. Rotten food. You know you shouldn't eat it. That is obvious. But you take a bite anyway. Eat the meat to the infested bone. Bite the bone in half and suck out the marrow. Blood filled workings. A sign. A word. Nice words. But not just words. Suggestions in the form of a tone of voice. I feel like I'm so far away and yet I am only hours away. It's no surprise what went on today. But it is a secret. It's all secrets. Everybody holds onto the known unspoken. The whole system would crumble if you went against the secrets. If I said what I know. And what do I know? What do I know now after three shots of tequila (mixed famously in a salty glass), far too many cigarettes and a puff of smoke? Nothing. I really don't know anything. Sleep. Go to sleep. Don't say goodnight. Just slip away.
March 24: after the family reunion (10 minutes)
I am stupified. Thrown asunder. Tossed about. My mind is swirling. Nothing makes sense. Laughter seems irrelevant. A code. A cloak. Protection from the dark under current. A hundred years come swirling back. Complete in an instant. Reverted. Returned to an old way of being. Old style. Familiar in its awkwardness. Tragedy unfolding. Unfurled. Presented like a folded flag to the widow. Symbolic. Time gone by. Never to return. And yet it is here. In full force. Footsteps on oak leaves outside the window in the middle of the night. An imagination running wild. Fears so vivid. So readily available. At the touch of a finger. A siren. A flag. Voices whispering in another room. Another part of the house. A cough. Luxury. The soft whimper of a cat at your late arrival. A head spinning. I feel like I'm floating and held down at the same time. Was he flirting? Was she lying? Was she aware? Am I here right now? Or am I still in that living room? Those dead bodies. Moving about. Making gestures. Signaling an intent. Flirting with the past. Putting a feast before your eyes. But everything is years old, rancid. Rotten food. You know you shouldn't eat it. That is obvious. But you take a bite anyway. Eat the meat to the infested bone. Bite the bone in half and suck out the marrow. Blood filled workings. A sign. A word. Nice words. But not just words. Suggestions in the form of a tone of voice. I feel like I'm so far away and yet I am only hours away. It's no surprise what went on today. But it is a secret. It's all secrets. Everybody holds onto the known unspoken. The whole system would crumble if you went against the secrets. If I said what I know. And what do I know? What do I know now after three shots of tequila (mixed famously in a salty glass), far too many cigarettes and a puff of smoke? Nothing. I really don't know anything. Sleep. Go to sleep. Don't say goodnight. Just slip away.
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