Thursday, March 4, 2010

summer storm

(I don't know what suddenly came over me. Maybe because I just saw an overindulgent film, and now I want to indulge my moodiness, or melancholy, I don't know. Or maybe I needed a few hours to recharge by myself and I just never got any.)

Do you know what it's like to have such rage and urgency to move and yet nothing they could be directed at? It's terrible, like a famished, fantastical beast that doesn't know what it should devour. Worst of all, I don't know how many chances I get before I'm labeled unintelligible. Or irrelevant.

These are such dark thoughts to wrestle with, and they descended upon me so suddenly, like a summer storm, the perfect kind where the drops come crashing down, so violently they burst into bubbles the moment they touch ground. Like a pot of unstill, boiling water, they squeeze and seep into every crack to make room for more more more. So maybe, like a storm, it will also cease as quickly as it came. Leaving wherever it touched slightly more cleansed.

When I was a little girl I stood under the front entrance of grandma's house, watching the flood rush by, fascinated by the sheer intensity of it all, willing myself to be swept up in it. When the wind snaked into the space between my neck and where my hair falls, wrapping itself around me, I swear I felt it calling.

To give up such control is, admittedly, uncharacteristic. Still, this peculiar desire rages on, at once desperately appealing and unattainable.

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