And today was new. Head above water with the shackles sinking by themselves, down deep where the absence of sun kept me pale. being pushed by the wakes and currents I'm treading water. I can see the shore this time. but it feels less like "the"shore and more like "a" shore. You'll paddle over in you're white rowboat, the oars cracking against the hulls, and pull me aboard. from there all I can see is the thousand shores, but i wont matter because you'll be wrapping me in blankets, wiping hair out of my eyes and I won't be able to concentrate on anything else.

... we'll row back slowly.

The challenge approaches. Inked into my spine; between the disks and vertebrae that keep me aligned. I'm at the ledge and before me is an obstacle course spaning far and wide; left to right, up and down, front ways, back ways, taunting me like a Wonka elevator. The ledge crumbles and I float up, each carrying me towards the steel fan on the ceiling. Up and up I go, floating, drifting, speeding towards the graveyard. A small release:"pop". I sink. Back to the comfort of the ground. Next a belch. challenge complete. Another. Another. Another... the relief of sinking shocks me into a paralyzing fear of heights.  So here I am suspended between fear and the lack of. Is this my normal? The stress spreds me thinner than dough raked over sandpaper, and the calm makes me slower than the blob of unused frozen dough in the icechest. "you're young" they say. "It's a balance" they say. So Santa, I know what I want for Chanukah, a science grade scale.

home

"Power, time, gravity, love. The forces that really kick ass are all invisible."
-David Mitchell

Power.



Time.



Gravity.



Love.

lay down with me

In movies, where the world is in peril and explosions seem to happen for no reason, Im at that point in the explosion when the frames of the film speed up and the actions seem to slowdown, magnifying each detail, each bit of debris, every strand of hair that is being blown forward from impact pressure. And in this moment, we hear a hollow sound, viewing the world through deaf ears, with the occasional treat of hearing the flap of a birds wings or a misplaced gust of wind. Time slowed just long enough for a hike, a daydream or a passing fancy, but like all movies, that time is precious. The next thing we know, the whirr of frames slows; clicks down to normal speed; the booms and crackles make themselves known and fire consumes everything in its path. If you're lucky enough to escape the fire, watch for the high speed chases and stray bullets, because if you want to stay alive, let's hope you've been painted as the hero.

I saw the strangest thing yesterday while out adventuring; a gathering of rocks, each covered in bird seed, an apple and an uncooked egg. Completely dumbfounded.

Je suis fatigue. Je veux tout. Je veux toi. Dans la matin ma vie est calme, immobile et silencieux. marcher agilement à travers le jour où tout s'accélère et je me perds dans la masse. Je peux faire les choses que je dois faire, mais pas les choses que je veux. Vous Parlez "ce la vie", mais que faire si je ne veux pas que? oui, j'ai pris la décision de l'exécutif de s'enfuir à Paris, en Afrique ou en Nouvelle-Zélande ou à New York ou en Australie ou en Thaïlande ou en Grande-Bretagne ou en Allemagne ou en Grèce ou ... Ici je vais!

Pardon ma Francais.

The cold steel of the foothold grazed my fingertips, one after the other. Rung after rung, ascending up the tree, breathing in the bark and dried moss that grew on my natural ladder. Twenty feet. Thirty feet. Forty feet. The higher branches loom above but my gaze drifts to the right. A tight wire. Bound steel suspended between me and my plateau. One foot on the wire, then the other. One at a time my fingertips leave the safety of my home tree. The confidence in my balance clouds. Sliding the right foot, then the left. I feel unsafe. A breeze comes through the trees and it feels like I’m being pushed back by an invisible hand. My arms flail; jolts of fear shoot up my spine but I find my  balance. “I will not fall” I say to myself. Shoulders stack over hips; hips stack over bent knees and I breath in. As the breath fills my lungs the world muffles it’s self all I can hear is the hiss of air escaping through my pursed lips. I shut my eyes and disappear away from the trees. Slide the right foot, then the left. I unfurl my wings, it’s too nice a day to sit in he trees being scared. Slide the right foot, then the left. It’s so bright in the sky, doing barrel rolls to escape the heat. Slide the right foot, then the left. It’s time to go home to the trees, I’ll miss the sea air. Slide the right foot, then the left. I open my eyes. In front of me is the plateau. Clipped in and back to the edge. “One, Two, Three, go!”. Gravity is suspended, then a jerk of the rope and I’m a bird once again, soaring through the trees, speeding towards the other birds.

Flip through my  pages, Babe. Explore my script. Leave watermarks. Stay up late reading me, your head under the covers balancing me in one hand, your flashlight in the other. Dog ear your favorite pages. Feel my words. Swim in your opinions of the pages. Read past the cover leaflets that summarize the story. This text  doesn’t mean to give you paper cuts or tire your eyes. Not all the characters in this story are good and mine might make you mad, infuriate you, make you throw this book across the room. But please dust it off; pick it up and try to continue. Put me on your shelf with your favorites. Let it be your secret story. Don’t lend me. And above all, if my story makes it this far, read me over and over, like the old friend that curls up to you and warms you from the inside out; because you’ll get to a point in the thousands of words and phrases and plot lines when you realize you’ve been inked into the pages; my pages.

So Blue eyes, check me out of the library, take me home, read me, and feel free to make me overdue.