AUTHOR.CALHO: If I didn't write it, I would be hitch hiking cross country to Maine and then Alaska in that order. While taking frequent breaks to spread leaflets. And sit in diners. And write on things because I wasn't at a computer. I may still do that in a few years. Writing this also helps me forget about and better understand the limitations of being human, and keeps me busy enough to allow me no free time to burn the world down.

THEMATIC.ABOUT : Collapse often. The things that hold people together and hold them apart and scatter brains. The things that make thoughts go boom. The things that ooh and aah and [expletive deleted]. Sometimes poking around the margins where responsibility ends and the only one to look to is the Original Equipment Manufacturer and say "but, I already pressed 9 for more options and the menus are exactly the same. Can you just replace it?" The answer will be: "please hold." Sometimes hanging out in dark corners. Sometimes following the train tracks. Looking for ways out and ways in and all the while sharing the things seen and heard and done and drawn and written and scorched and healed and teased and caged and dreamed along the way.

10/3/16

Dear (_____)

Dear Injury,

Coming off of you is one of the hardest things to do.  Continues to be so.  Coming off of you, oh beautiful injury, oh beautiful send down, oh beautiful hip check, oh beautiful headbutt, oh beautiful broken broken broken king, is learning to trust.  Learning limits all over again.  I am crying.  I do not want to.

You've changed.  So have I.  We have to speak with one another and learn anew what it means to hurt because what we had doesn't hurt anymore.  What we had is now a matter of inconvenience if it happens again.  A thing to be avoided because I do not want to lose another month of my life waiting to get back to a place where I can go rhinoceros into and between goal posts.

I was hurt.  I am complete enough to operate.  Not complete enough to be healthy.  That's never stopped us before.  Give your body time.  You could hibernate and rest and sleep and conserve until when?  You will always be injured.   You will always be failing.  You will always be working toward operational capacity.  When will you be ready?  I am ready now.  I am ready now.  I can taste it.  I can smell it.  I can touch it and my nerve feels it like a matchbook made of tacks in the rain with a limp cigarette on my lip.

Injury, you've set me back.  I am ready.



with love,

toothy
at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)