thoughts on Thursday
im missing you @ 4:09 p.m. on 2003-01-16
My thoughts throughout the day were on-going and pointless...endless commentary inside my brain, beginning with the second I stepped foot into the parking lot.
I feel their eyes, gazing into me, burning into me. As I turn my head and sense the awkward energy via their awkward grin and if not guilty, then empty conscience. I also sense that they feel they're wrong. But can't admit that I'm right because they know that I don't want them to. or they're afraid and they can't admit their fear or don't want to or just don't know. And this ails me. Deep beneath my skin and into my quick pulsing organs. My bleeding liver, corrupted. My open heart, bleeding. and. this ails me.
The six a.m. Memphis news repeats for the third time and I'm unable to imagine why anyone cares three times in-a-row.
My raspberry tea is cold, my feet are cold, my hands...and I am uncomfortable.
relentless.
A lady in vomit red is yelling, "you're too loud." I'm not loud. too loud. I'm mute. my thoughts are screaming and I must listen. Hit me and I won't answer. You're disturbing me.
Funny. How people are always victims in their mind. Tied to chains on the wall, like a bad porn film or gothic sex and pierced nipples. An 8 mm documentary about orgies and wrinkled people and trash, and how seriously people take these things, like themselves or more.
Is a pin drop really as quiet as they say?
It probably depends on what it is dropped onto, the density and how far from and where it...
Someone's speaking of hospitilization. Evidentally their psyche has condemned them to white walls. I'm not sure if they're padded or not but I'm sure she'd request it. She's strange like that. Even though I don't believe in strange or "like that". But she seems to favor the tile floors of St. Frances. It's her third invitation and believe you me, she'll RSVP. I remember her from elementary school. She was always the excessively overweight child in class and people taunted her for her last name. "Max", much like her size. Maximum. I saw more of it in her heart. She always cared. So, now she doesn't and her psyche condemned her to white walls...
This is what I get for taking the regular history class.
Into sociology, really not liking teachers today. Until I asked to be excused to the restroom and Mrs. Cooper smiled very big and brightened the moment. I giggled, sensing the naivity in her old age. Then I liked teachers, until I walked into the bathroom and spotted the Human Physiology teacher washing her hands. I imagined her disecting the fetal pig in class. It's an annual tradition, much like Christmas time. And suddenly, the crystal water turned to dark blood and organs, covering her hands...seeping through her fingers. And as I thought of how often she disected pigs and how many deaths she was responsible for... I started to despise her, then realized how pathetic I was. I, then rid myself of the stereotype against teachers...
and remembered how some of my best friends are teachers...(but, they don't disect fetal pigs.)
and that my thoughts are beyond silly...
The quadratic formula floats through my head, at some sort of scattered navigational pull. X equals the opposite of B, plus then minus, the square root of B squared minus 4 times A times C, over two times A. Somehow this all equals X.
And my tenth grade biology teachers' only words of wisdom ran through my mind..."X don't equal shit." And suddenly, I had great respect for this man of only one piece of wise wisdom.
And no respect for myself...for actually understanding that formula.
I saw a snowflake stick to the ground and I am jumping with glee and yipee and Yay!
Hoping that this Thursday will really be Friday and then we'll be blessed with a four day weekend.
And through all of this rimble-rumble-ramble...I had you on my mind.
You, the sexy, intellectual woman in those black tights and that sweaty basketball shirt...your calve muscles stretching as you bounced on the pilates machine...your mind in thoughts, a thousand miles to the hour...
and I hoped that at that moment, I crossed your mind too.