Friday, October 13, 2006

the pale yellow glow

When I was in high school,ninth grade to be exact,the floors had just been finished in cream colored tiles with gold flecks. They were so shiny and new, for a few weeks it was sort of like walking around on mirrors.

While walking from the Audotorium to my locker and then on to English you managed to walk the entire length of the school. I had Gym first period. After spending the 4 1/2 minutes we had to get from class to class ringing out the pool water from my hair, I would stare down into the tiles. Into the glass floor. If I got just the right mind set, or perhaps it was because I was physically tired,if I stared at the floor from just the right angle. It felt as if I were floating.

My feet would glide and the pale yellow glow from the flourescent lights would cushion my steps. I've written so many poems about this moment. I've written this moment in so many stories. I can't explain it.

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After my father died,I began to write again. My words bursting from my chest. Small,pathetic wanting shings. Yearning things. My inspiration now,comes in bursts. I've got countless poems. Things scribbled on dinner napkins and torn sheer of paper dug out from the bottomless pit that is my purse.

Countless stories that rushed from my heart,but before I could hit the pinacle of the story I'd lose interest,bursting with another idea. My writing seems so mundane lately.

The funny thing is I could write when I was sad or lonely. But when the sadness is gone the words stop. Any suggestions?

Perhaps I'll dig out one of my old stories. A chapter a night and maybe I'll be inspired enought to complete it.
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Derrick W.Sherman
*The Reunion Show

I once met a man and asked him if it were true when you get older you become wiser.He said that the only answer was to get older. Looking back to when I was a kid, I realize that my ignorance was a virtue. I saw the world in colors and shapes. Now my nerves keep me awake at night. I think about the future and what I want to do with my life. I asked that same man if he had an advice for me. He told me to quit living and start breathing. " Look around at the life you lead. Listen to the wind and the trees. Take time to smell the ocean breeze and sleep on the beach." He said that the beauty of this world was in its complexity and that our lives for the most part are ordinary. He told me to never stop painting, but mostly never stop creating. "You're as free as your mind will let you be. So what's holding you back?" he asked,"fear or laziness?"

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I thought this was beautifull. We all hold back don't we? We all have something we want to say or something we want to do. But we haven't. So what's holding you back? Fear or laziness?

I ask myself as well. :*)

Goodnight and sleep well dear ones.

For Alissa

::hugs you from far away::I'm sorry you've had such a rough day. You know what's funny is the other day Aiva just wouldnt settle down. She didn't want to eat,or to have a drink. A bath wasn't enough,going for a walk just made her scream. I tried tickling and coloring and everything short of standing on my head to try and get her to stop yelling!
I just started crying. And I only have one!


But the funny part is I remember back to one of the first times I met you, at the boys double birthday party. They were sooo soo well behaved! So sweet and so polite. and always so cute.
On the drive home I said to Chip,"They are like the most behaved little boys I have ever met."(course I have my nephew,whom I love with all my heart,the living tornado,to compare with). And I thought you seemed so calm. I worried constantly that Aiva was going to be too loud or too hyper or eat too much. And I caught sight of you before we left and saw that the day was starting to wear on you and I was surprised. Like wow, she was just as on edge as I was.


Anyway I guess the point is that we all see things differently. You remembered your mom as being always so patient. But I'm sure more than a few times she was overwhelmed and I'm sure your dads shoulder even saw a few tears.

Some people are seemingly born with patience. Some learn it over time and experience and some (as i like to think of it)are just so full of life and passion there simply was no room left for patience. K, I
made that up, it's my excuse anyway. :*)

Tomorrow's a new day. And this too, shall pass.

Sweet dreams all dear ones.