Jess said that my first blog was like a novel, or a book. On another
occasion, she told me the more she reads the less she sees. Sometimes I
think I remember everything.
Tonight, it’s Thursday, the 17th of January, and I saw the moon
rising high, high into darkness, burning, almost polluting the sky with
a white fog as I left my house. It looked like it was burning a hole in
the firmament. Tonight, I went to the Emerald offices. Instead of
writing FOR the Emerald, I wrote ABOUT the Emerald. Between the
electromagnetic buzz from the television signals hovering like clouds
in the air and the click-clicking of copy editors, nobody noticed.
Tonight, I went to a creative writing line of inquiry party where I
wanted to leave before I even came because crowds can sometimes scare
me. It wasn’t that bad, though. I met two people who seemed
interesting,
and are maybe interested. In writing, that is. Tonight, I went to
Sakura and ate alone and the waitress smiled at me every time she came
by. She asked if I wanted water, or needed a drink, or was happy with
my meal. And so on. Tonight, I came home and saw the moon had risen
even higher, and now was a small dot casting its reflected sunlight
onto the dark side of the planet. It shone so brightly that I could see
the color of my key that I needed to use to open the door. I stood
there momentarily, looking up at the huge beautiful celestial object.
I’m not sure what I felt. Tonight, I lace up an old pair of Converse to
play basketball outside in the dead cold of winter. I’ve gone through
so many pairs of these shoes that they don’t match anymore. The left
one’s black, and the right one’s black and white.
Tonight, I played basketball, and one of my shoes broke. I made
wicked twisting loopy shots in the air and in the second-to-last-game,
my right shoe tore and gave out in a way that reminded me of a tire
popping. Tonight, I got a ride home from a long-lost friend. Although
she hadn’t really been gone, and I haven’t even known her that long. I
told her she had beautiful eyes. I knew it was a cliche, but I knew she
needed to hear it. Or maybe I did.
Tonight is now tomorrow. I want to take a shower. I want to believe
words still have power when I get out.