An Eloquent Silhouette

What if we uprooted all the sparse brown grass and heavily seeded dandelions and then replaced them with nothing? Just a volleyball court-sized area of dirt.

Or what if we pulled out the four single-pained windows and replaced them with better sound and weatherproofed ones? Would that make me happy?

I leave most ideas idling in the back of my mind when the work-to-payoff ratio is not in my favor.

A dream from last night has me in a psychological hangover today, so I’m laying on a hammock and giving myself some time to not. To not think about the work day that awaits me tomorrow. To not have a heavy heart for a past I can’t do anything about. To not let in the concerns that no matter what I do I will never be good enough.

So I listen to the sound of vacuuming spill out of an ajar front door and feel both grateful and guilty for being with someone that picks up the slack when I lack.

I want a solution to the mysteries of life.

So I take my eyes off the screen and search the layers of branches and leaves of the alders and firs above me. Is it in the sky, a blog, a book; this truth for which I search?

What will I find at the end of the string I’m pulling? Boy, I hope it’s not for nothing! But still, what a bastard hope can be.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t find the words. I don’t know if it is, ever was, or ever will be, so I scratch an itch on my head, watch a moth flutter across the sky, and feel the heaviness of grief cuddle me like a cloud.


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