your happiness to give away

I am begin­ning to think that it is nec­es­sary for me to cap­ture every­thing beau­ti­ful that I see & feel & catch, to savor it and re-savor it, so that I can remem­ber how alive I am when I am seated in front of a screen shout­ing acronyms and analy­sis at human beings that I never touch.

I am start­ing to think that I will need some­thing to kick­start my mem­ory, to give my head a jolt — a metaphor of some mak­ing for an excla­ma­tion point — so that when the hours fall from my mouth like the heav­i­est drool I will still be able to gather myself up & out of ruts and make it out­side to take a walk, or descend into a field & lie down & noth­ing, or breathe, or forget.

I am con­vinced that this is true.

It is so hard to get in your own way some­times & step into a bal­ance shat­ter­ing nudge. It is so very dif­fi­cult to use your own momen­tum against your­self, and knock your­self down, if for no other rea­son than to reac­quaint your­self with the cool of con­crete, the grooves between tile & the smell of worn wood.