Saturday, August 31, 2013

Mess Age

“I see you,” I said softly and quickly in an effort not to make a big thing of it, and just to show my gratitude, but as ever, something like a spell was broken merely through the utterance. In other words, I fucked up today by attempting to place myself on top of the situation and stepping on marshy feelings that do not appreciate recognition. Everything that’s manifest around here, and I do mean pretty much everything, is meant to be understood through implication and inference; “it’s the words they don’t want to hear.” Does this make them smug, as if they were parading around with a superior sophistication, or am I just uncouth for wanting to call a shovel a spade and pretending it digs the same hole? In any case, I acknowledged my cohort’s presence, not seeing him as a doppelganger, but more in the way of supportive back-up, a soft container for my shadow, and for my indiscretion, he fled. I don’t know if I am alone now as I say this, though I feel as if I am, but I wish I could hear the air drifting by my ears as I once did, and ascertain my right to be righteous.

© Michael D. Brown 2013

Originally posted at 6S Social Network

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