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[personal profile] vom_marlowe
I was working on a piece of writing today.

It's gray and rainy today, here in my suburban home, hidden in a forest, surrounded by trees. When I biked, I passed a kid with training wheels, helmet, happy. Took my dog walking, didn't worry a single moment. I sit on my porch, look around, am grateful.

But...

Sometimes, like today, my heart aches for the old world. Stupid. I know it. I wouldn't go back there. I wouldn't put my family back there. I'm still proud of getting out, getting up.

But....

Sometimes I miss it.

I heard there was a murder, not five blocks from my last house. Heard what it was about. Thought to myself, I bet R was one of them. Yeah, I wouldn't go back.

And yet, I miss it.

Put on some Tom Waits, closed my eyes, just remembered.

Well, things are pretty lousy for a calendar girl
The boys just dive right off the cars
And splash into the street
And when she's on a roll she pulls a razor
From her boot and a thousand
Pigeons fall around her feet


And the thing you can't remember, tell the things you can't forget.

Oh yeah, sometimes I miss it.  That world I understood, that knew me right back.  Not that we were fond, that world and I.  We never were.  But we understood each other.

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vom_marlowe

March 2016

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