On Future Endeavors - Tumblr Posts

i. something about girls shines into my eyes too brightly. at seven, i catch myself thinking - let's figure that out later.

ii. at seventeen, we are both trying on clothing. i've known her since she was 11. her boyfriend will storm up to the changing room. not with her - she's a fucking lesbian.

iii. at 21, i lie on the floor of my boyfriend's room, watching the ceiling spin. i've cleaned his place on my hands and knees and the whole room smells of bleach. i'm drunk on fireball, which feels dangerous and silly. i can tell i'm being immature. being with him feels lonely. i tell him, without thinking - she kissed me. he will laugh into the pillow. who cares? girls don't count. it's kind of hot. show me a picture.

iv. i change schools twice. i change careers every thursday. i change in and out of feeling alive. i think i have some kind of curse - each switch i make sends me back to being seven, and unsure. brings me back to arguing with my father. brings me back to but i think i love her. i love change but i hate setting things in motion. i hate being the new kid. i hate stuttering - well, i'm, uh, i'm into uh

v. we sit and watch the bird coast overhead and talk about art and kiss on the roof of a garden. i'm 27, and the gasoline tank is running low. i pick up a feather for her. i feel like i am still unweaving half the things i thought i'd already know. it feels less and less like i am unpacking. more and more like - finding new places to grow.

vi. something about her shines into my hands and spills out over my lap. like gold satin. like shower of sparks. like everglow. i call my father. i tell him - oh, by the way. i'm bringing her home.

// r.i.d // nosebleed prompt 3.20

When we were children, my sister had private music lessons at her violin teacher’s house. I only visited there once, but I still remember that afternoon. The teacher had an artificial pond in her yard, a large beautiful thing with lily pads and plant life. And in the pond, there were goldfish. I had never seen such enormous goldfish. 

I spent several minutes just staring at them (and trying to convince them to bite my fingers.) When my sister’s violin lesson ended, her teacher came out to the yard and explained that these goldfish were the same small creatures that were often unfortunately sold in plastic bags at state fairs. They were only about two inches long apiece, when she bought them and put them in the new, empty pond. In essence, they were like every goldfish I had seen before, but they had been given a much larger, much richer environment in which to flourish. As a result, they had grown into some of the most remarkable, vibrant creatures my twelve-year-old self had ever met with. All because of a pond. 

Funny what lessons children remember. My sister doesn’t play the violin anymore, but that was the first time I caught a glimpse of the overwhelming extent to which it matters, the way the world treats us.