Don’t ask me to explain how I ripped the toilet seat off of the toilet because I don’t know how to do it other than to say it was an accident.
Wasn’t something I wanted to or tried to do, it just happened.
Can’t say if it was the trip to the hardware store to pick up a replacement that led to a nail in the tire because I didn’t notice it until later.
That seems to be a theme for me lately, noticing things that I somehow missed even though in retrospect they were glaringly obvious.
It is funny because though I walk around in my own world I often notice quite a bit and have had people comment upon it.
But sometimes the things we ought to notice and do something about don’t smack us in the mouth with the ferocity they ought to.
And let’s be honest, punching me in the mouth rarely gets the sort of response you want.
Not saying it does for anyone else but this introspection isn’t focused upon them.
So call it the submission of SQ a multi-decade tale in multiple spaces.
There was a conversation that took place once upon a time in which someone asked if I could lay all my cards upon the table.
I told them I can do it anywhere at any time and have been accused of being too intense, too blunt and in need of polishing.
Thought about it a few times recently as I recounted moments where I laid it out and was ignored and moments where I simply refused to say anything.
The refusal is what jumps out at me because it wasn’t fear or uncertainty that prevented me, it was ambivalence.
There was no motivation to move from indifference to whatever lay north of it.
Wasn’t energy to try to figure out how I ended up at a imaginary bus stop or why the empty station showed no signs of life.
No schedule upon the walls, no ticket sellers or workers of any sort. It wasn’t a cemetery but it was as close to one as such a place could come.
Looked out upon the empty plains and saw a lightning storm in the distance and walked towards it.
Got close enough to hear the thunder but far enough away to know it was going to take some doing to get there.
Recognized I was a in a dried out river bed and got this sense that I ought to be concerned about water.
Couldn’t figure out if instinct or intuition was pushing me to recognize I was in a potential flood zone or that I might die of thirst.
Quite the contradiction to be concerned about death through lack of water or by being enveloped by too much.
Kept moving forward because in the silence I heard consent and invitation and figured that if destiny calls one ought to keep moving forward.
