Memories

Designing the fish line and hook system around my notebook in high school.  A marvel of engineering.  Should it get out of my hands for any reason, uncorking it without knowing how the lines were connected led to a four pointed fish hook whipping around it's spine to snag whatever hands held it. I hoped someone would try to open it to hear their wail.  Now it's pretty fun to not have to design ridiculous booby traps.

That Instant

you realize text messages take much more processing power and compression sources than a thorough voicemail and that is why she is alive and well.

The Best Thing

about working in the rain is the simultaneous shampoo to get the saw dust out of your hair.

The Best Thing

about realizing you cannot bug your professors and mentors anymore because they have lives of their own and more students to teach too is that they helped you walk and now you know it's up to you to figure out all of this running, skipping, leaping, hopskotch, breakdance, sprint, strolling, mosey, crawl, cartwheel, hand spring, uprock, stand stilling business.

Undo Button

You've heard it before.  For this and that.  How about, after 30, you get to hit undo on one impossible to fix character trait?  Just one and it has to be something long established and impossible to undo because it is so far ingrained into the base mechanics of your brain functioning that trying to eradicate it will destroy layers upon layers upon layers of other vital systems and courses and circuitry that are highly desirable.

Consider it an inoperable cancer.  Because that is exactly what it is.  It will be the death of you and you cannot live without its growth.  Its eradication will mean your own extinction as well.  It will die when you do.  That.

If I had an undo button I would use it on my rage and aggression.  The seeds were planted and nursed to seedlings in youth.  Agitated and metastasized through adolescence and bloomed through young adulthood.  Now the tree of might grows in my yard constantly and every season I have to go in and clean up all the rotting stuff that falls.  Stare at them ripening knowing the best way to take care of it is to wait for it to fall.  Knowing I have to, must to, gots to, wait it out and tend to it and if it dies it will only be because my heart stopped too.  @#$% you, tree.  Well after my father dies, I will still have that tree peering in my windows.  Shadowing my kids while they play, picking up bats and swatting the little things every fall.  Kicking them around.  Wondering what they are and if they're edible.  Tasting them anyway.

Myself watching them, if they ever do land.  Firing cusses at him.  My kids will think that tree was always there, because that's all they'll ever have known.  "Doesn't everyone have a rage tree?"  "Why don't you cut it down?  The yard would be so much better without it."  I know.  I know.

I want an undo button for that.  The schizophrenia, the paranoia, the anxiety, depression, mania, twin poles, I can deal with those fairly effectively except when I don't.  The absolute rage is the hardest to bridle and if you screw it up people disappear and then so do you.  Forever.  I can't afford to make that mistake again.   Ever.

Dear (_____)

Dear lowline,

I know we can't kill them all.  That's silly.  We can't pick off one; we'd be out of a job.  I know you are coming and cumming, with a wide turn radius.  I will control you, you know.  

Another glitch to add to the library.  Failure to observe traffic signaling devices.  Borough code A31 sub section ae15-d-01.  Right after d-00: failure to observe curbside collection on holiday disrupted weeks.  Yep, they were voted in on the same day the council met back in oh three.

Tracking the low line and waiting to press "after burner".  I'm gonna ride you down, til my pinkies can kick pebbles and sand and grass tips, then blow for the exosphere, lowline.

I want to play.

xoxo,

highline

That Instant

you ask yourself "who's advice have you been taking?"

That Instant

you realize, on the original specification sheet for your truck under miles per gallon, it reads "lol."