Haiku

I have your Proust book.
You're not an underliner.
We've read these pages.

The trouble with Homographs

Me: I really wish we could all, you know...

Brother: Talk about our issues as a family?

Me: Yeah, as a unit.

Brother: Well that would be nice, but you know there's always that one chink in the armour.

Me, Brother: (mutual OMG! look)

Brother: Did I just say chink?

Me: Yeah (looking around), ugh way to go.

Brother: Shit, I just said chink in a Chinese restaurant.

Me: Jesus! Where is your fucking tact?

*sigh*

Parental Lessons

Mum: What do I do now? Your sister is at a Xenos meeting.

Me: What the fuck! Oh no.

Mum: She asked if I would be mad. I said she can make up her own mind. But she is totally vulnerable to that crap.

Me: Good call. Brainwashing is all the rage. HOW do you survive teenagers?

Mum: Drugs and alcohol.

I have been adrift, a rudderless boat sailing along a river of grief.

I think there will be moments in every day, forever, when I feel absence so keenly that it will crush the air from my lungs. Cause me to stumble. To feel utterly bereft.

I am slowly moving again.

From the story The Turning Point by Klaus Mann.

It is from the turning point that we should examine the path we have covered. In measuring its serpentine curves and paradoxical zigzags, we may learn something as to the next step to take. For one thing is certain at least, in the midst of so many staggering uncertainties: the next step will carry us into new land with landscapes and conditions as they have never been seen before. Nobody can foretell whether things will be worse or better in this transformed world to come. The horizons which, from now on, will surround our lives may be brighter or darker than the skies we knew. But surly the light will alter.



--

It's the second year

That's the hardest
Coupled with finding and losing your reflection
In the deepest pools of blue and green
Now is just treading water
Head above the peaks
And ride the waves to a calmer current
Where they're not all deserted islands

You called

and I missed it. The annoying thing is that you will convince yourself that it is a good sign...I am moving on, having fun, not waiting for you. What I was really doing was sleeping. I set my phone to silent because I figured you were home--comfortable, and I didn't want to be bothered by other people. I haven't moved on, I've retreated into the darkest corner of my mind in hopes that I will find quiet there.