Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Flick to Click: Green Lantern
This is here only because it gives me goose pimples. I believe it opens 06.17, but you'll see about 8.2 trillion commercials reminding you. ;-j
When the Fissures Come Again Together
I'm 18 years old. I have pretty much mortgaged my potential for a thousand knives of adolescent angst. I'm failing classes and disappointing any adult that I can find.
It started snowing on Halloween and the snow plowed piles in the shopping center lots will not disappear until mid May. Today, I am standing across the street from my sister school because we're not allowed to smoke on their property. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing or why the fuck I'm doing it. I am, without a doubt, causelessly rebelling. Those around me have similar ideas, though they seem better able to keep their wits about them. My best friend is here. My girlfriend is here. There are other girls here. For a social misfit attending an all boys school, it seems as if nirvana has been granted.
Why today? Why this memory? Of all the myriad images of a misspent year, what elevates this one to worth? Oddly, perfectly, it is the smell. The temperature hovers in the 40s for the first time it what seems like an eternity and is actually about six months. The snow is melting. As ice liquefies and percolates through the soil, a rich, earthy aroma permeates every breath that I take. That is why this moment is perfect.
The pale sun pauses to sparkle among us and for just an instant we are all the limitless approximation of ourselves. For a single inhalation, the templates and trappings recede and the only matter is the taste of air. And I feel grateful, I feel brilliant, I feel at peace.
Too many years later, I can still recall every thaw since. I can taste every radiant breath of rebirth. As the memories pile atop each other, cram themselves into the overstuffed roomings of my skull, the moments become less meaningful and all of those lungfuls age in cherish like a whiskey in an oak barrel.
Living a bit further south, the winter months are more mild and the oppressive weight of a frozen world is further at hand. An apt metaphor, the lines are mostly blurred. Even so, the atmosphere remains a promise of beauty to come in cherry blossoms, bikinis and summer nights. For today I can be content with the absence of a heavy coat and enjoy children's games in an open field.
Take the time, y'all.
Cheers.
It started snowing on Halloween and the snow plowed piles in the shopping center lots will not disappear until mid May. Today, I am standing across the street from my sister school because we're not allowed to smoke on their property. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing or why the fuck I'm doing it. I am, without a doubt, causelessly rebelling. Those around me have similar ideas, though they seem better able to keep their wits about them. My best friend is here. My girlfriend is here. There are other girls here. For a social misfit attending an all boys school, it seems as if nirvana has been granted.
Why today? Why this memory? Of all the myriad images of a misspent year, what elevates this one to worth? Oddly, perfectly, it is the smell. The temperature hovers in the 40s for the first time it what seems like an eternity and is actually about six months. The snow is melting. As ice liquefies and percolates through the soil, a rich, earthy aroma permeates every breath that I take. That is why this moment is perfect.
The pale sun pauses to sparkle among us and for just an instant we are all the limitless approximation of ourselves. For a single inhalation, the templates and trappings recede and the only matter is the taste of air. And I feel grateful, I feel brilliant, I feel at peace.
Too many years later, I can still recall every thaw since. I can taste every radiant breath of rebirth. As the memories pile atop each other, cram themselves into the overstuffed roomings of my skull, the moments become less meaningful and all of those lungfuls age in cherish like a whiskey in an oak barrel.
Living a bit further south, the winter months are more mild and the oppressive weight of a frozen world is further at hand. An apt metaphor, the lines are mostly blurred. Even so, the atmosphere remains a promise of beauty to come in cherry blossoms, bikinis and summer nights. For today I can be content with the absence of a heavy coat and enjoy children's games in an open field.
Take the time, y'all.
Cheers.
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