You ever have days where you only think in prose and poem stanzas? Like the words don't even need thought and instead just flow out wise and slow from your mouth like ink from the well, down the quill point and onto the rigid, variable parchment of clamorous, natural life?
...Today was just one of those days. My eyes rolled and eye lids clicked like shutters of an old VHS camera seeing through vintage film crackles and capturing every slight sway any blade of grass or window blind made for hundreds of meters in every direction and wrapping them in appreciation. When people passed me I couldn't help but notice the way their shoe laces flapped like butterfly wings on either side. Taking flight to patterns that naturally synchronized to those of other people around them, forming humble little flocks that congest and disperse around the campus in cycles marked by the song of the bell tower and flowing like blood cells through the entity that is my university.
And I say all this without in the least bit wanting to sound pretentious, while there are so many people out there that have no idea that this side of me even exists. It's always interesting to me the impressions I have on people and how incredibly far off I am when I think about how I come across versus what I am told. To some I am the dumb, humble athlete archetype and to others I'm the fit nerd- I can never quite get it right. But isn't it really impossible to? Because many of those layers come from deeper discussions and disclosed personal realities that only come out with trust and time. So why then do I stress it so much? I guess it's just a small hiccup or smoker's cough if you will that spawned from my people-pleasing days. Or more simply it just comes from the innate desire every human has to truly be seen and understood- we all call it something different and have different methods but in my mind it's all the same. And I get that. As a matter of fact I think that's why I pay such close attention to even the simple things, like rustling leaves and floppy laces. Because they all have stories and homes of their own rich with nostalgia that I may or may not get to see, but I get to entertain the thoughts of what they might be and sometimes that is rewarding enough.
Seeing things and imagining things is active romanticizing of this planet I inhabit, while noticing and considering things is passive, simple existence- and I hope I never settle for it.
And I say all this without in the least bit wanting to sound pretentious, while there are so many people out there that have no idea that this side of me even exists. It's always interesting to me the impressions I have on people and how incredibly far off I am when I think about how I come across versus what I am told. To some I am the dumb, humble athlete archetype and to others I'm the fit nerd- I can never quite get it right. But isn't it really impossible to? Because many of those layers come from deeper discussions and disclosed personal realities that only come out with trust and time. So why then do I stress it so much? I guess it's just a small hiccup or smoker's cough if you will that spawned from my people-pleasing days. Or more simply it just comes from the innate desire every human has to truly be seen and understood- we all call it something different and have different methods but in my mind it's all the same. And I get that. As a matter of fact I think that's why I pay such close attention to even the simple things, like rustling leaves and floppy laces. Because they all have stories and homes of their own rich with nostalgia that I may or may not get to see, but I get to entertain the thoughts of what they might be and sometimes that is rewarding enough.
Seeing things and imagining things is active romanticizing of this planet I inhabit, while noticing and considering things is passive, simple existence- and I hope I never settle for it.
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