I think, partially,
our ability to quickly grasp
stories, sweet stories,
may undo us.
How many times
these days
do we glimpse or whiff
something and say,
"yeah, I got it,
I understand everything
about your life."
Thanks for the photo,
I am catching a bus,
leaves are falling,
it is fall --
what a cliche.
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2 comments:
Two thoughts.
Just because it's a cliche, does that make it any less true? There's a long list of mundane experiences that turn flat when they're raised to the level of expression--because what's so genuine about them is thoroughly sewn into the experience itself.
Second point. Actually--and I wish it weren't the case--the opposite is the case with me. I tend to look for and latch onto the uglier, more compromised sides of an experience and tend to read all other aspects of it in terms of that. The good stuff tends to seem like decoration, then, or camoflague, to the messier, sadder parts of how people relate to each other and what's around them. So trying to just focus on and speak from the sweetness is just me trying to challenge that part of me that gives automatic authority to disillusionment.
But that's also leads to a pile of cliches, doesn't it?
This tiny fragment comes from a strange place - I get jealous (is that the word? I need a better one . . . anxious? I don't know) sometimes when I see a Facebook page or series of photos that represents another life unfolding. Wait, I want that life . . . no, I want that one . . . On my best days, I want my own.
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