END OF THE YEAR DUSTING
As cliché as it sounds, 2013 was definitely a year of discovery for me. Discovering how to make time for myself, how to be better to my body, how to channel inner peace and how to cater to my likes and dislikes. Discovering meant a lot of UNcovering. Whether it be as severe as appraising the people in my life or as simple as peeling through my closet and donating old clothing, 2013 were 365 beautiful days of discovery. This is an ode to all the dusting off I’ve done thus far…
A couple of days ago I decided to do something I’ve never done: Clean out my e-mail inbox and outbox. Its incredible how much one can learn from just probing through e-mails. I scrolled and scrolled until I got all the way back to messages dated in 2008. Message after message, paragraph for paragraph, photo after photo, I changed. Whether it was an essay sent to a professor or a photo to an ex-boyfriend, every message was a piece to my evolution.
I found some pieces of fictional writing that I did a few years ago that spoke to me. Specifically, they said, “Why the hell don’t you write anymore?” I’ve decided to share one of my favorite pieces with you. Enjoy.
Cleanse, revise, evolve.
Stop, Mary. Just pull over on the side of the road and walk towards it. Everything about it is iniviting you in. Its uncalculated placement in the Middle of Nowhere, USA, the rusty stained shingles, its lacking of a door, the mysterious movement of something in its only window. Its wailing at you Mary. Wailing as loud as it could. It could not be anymore red under today’s sunset. Just go.
I tip-toed my way in as if to not disturb the uneasy ghosts of sheep, cattle and pigs that once grazed in torment here. The pungence of old blood hit me like a brick wall. The frangrance inconsiderately danced around me regardless of where I turned. It was dark and cold. Not the dark and cold you feel after leaving a restaurant on a brisk Autumn evening, but the dark and cold many fear to ever encounter. I had been here before. This place was not new to me. Not this barn persay, but I had been here before. In my dreams, in my nightmares, in my sad reality; I had been here, I am here, I will be here. Dark, cold and alone. Tip-toeing around life as if to not provoke the uneasy, pungent ghosts that dance around me.
I shook a little as a falling rusty shingle awoke me from my trance. Upon rubbing my eyes I realized the baren wall of utensils. All was gone but the dusty outlines of axes, saws, cattle guns and skinners. I had been here before. Outlines weren’t new to me. Not these types of outlines persay, but I had been here before. Outlines are templates for what should be present. A marking of the past. A preceding design. A pattern for my life. Outlines scared the shit out of me. Outlines were nothing but harsh reminders of what used to be. Identifications of lost parts of you. Invitations to misery. You gave something to the world and what does the world give you back? An outline. A fucking outline drawn out in sedimentary rock and calcium carbonate. They tell you you’ll forget it but you never do. I don’t even remember who used to be be there, I just remember the outline.
The wind slapped me in the face as it dried up the tears that had escaped my tired eyes. There was nothing else in the room but a splintery ladder illuminated by a shaft of moonlight from the window it lead to. I climbed it, of course, taking six splinters in hand along the way. I didn’t care. That window had been wailing at me from the road so I had to see it.
It wasnt dark and cold anymore. It was warm and inviting. Not the warm and inviting feeling you get when new neighbors bring you home made cookies, but the warm and inviting feeling you got the first time you tried and enjoyed pot.
I sat there for what seemed to be hours. The sunset had turned a sunless blanket of stars. It was beautiful. What an escape for the dark and cold dungeon below. Why had been hiding up here? I had been looking for this. I had been here before. Not sitting atop this barn persay, but I had been to this warm place before. No wonder this place had been so inviting from afar. This had been exactly what I was looking for. A place where I can be alone. Not alone in a room full of people, but really, really alone. A place where I can do whats right for me. Fuck these doctors and their notepads. Fuck their expensive office visits and fuck their prescriptions of Zoloft. I knew what I needed to do.
Goodbye to my past, to the calcium carbonate outline, the pungent smell of old blood, the dark, the cold, the inconsiderate carcus dancing, the uneasy ghosts, the six year old splinter that lives in my heart, my present and my future. Goodbye, Mary. Hello, moonlight. Hello, blanket of stars. Hello, window…goodbye, window.