Something happened last night that at some point, I may or may not write about.
This morning, I woke up. The right side of my face is swollen because of a toothache. I haven't taken any painkillers yet but through salt-water rinsing and application of clove oil, the pain is manageable. Or just by way of being human, I am getting used to it.
I get into the bathroom and very tenderly brush my teeth. It's really bright outside. The shadow of a pigeon perched somewhere falls on the wall I see through the bathroom window. It coos. Suddenly, there' sound of gushing water from a flat close by. It stops. Then I hear a trickle of water somewhere else. The water gushing from the tap inside my own bathroom is noisy.
My head throbs so I close my eyes. I wet my fingers and rub my temples. I go out and sit on the bed. There are different noises. I look out and there's a tree that looks like a bottlebrush tree but may not be that. It has clumps of thorny, bristly, pointy sharp needle type leaves in a muted yellow. A dusty yellow. Like if you had a yellow desk and never dusted it for months. That yellow.
All that I have heard and all that I have seen is outside me. But it is also inside me now. Everything seems to get inside. The body - these arms, legs, stomach, ankle, finger, neck, collarbone, cavity - all seem to be formed of memories. Of whatever I have seen so far, for so long.
What is this body then? What does it stop? What does it allow?
This morning, I woke up. The right side of my face is swollen because of a toothache. I haven't taken any painkillers yet but through salt-water rinsing and application of clove oil, the pain is manageable. Or just by way of being human, I am getting used to it.
I get into the bathroom and very tenderly brush my teeth. It's really bright outside. The shadow of a pigeon perched somewhere falls on the wall I see through the bathroom window. It coos. Suddenly, there' sound of gushing water from a flat close by. It stops. Then I hear a trickle of water somewhere else. The water gushing from the tap inside my own bathroom is noisy.
My head throbs so I close my eyes. I wet my fingers and rub my temples. I go out and sit on the bed. There are different noises. I look out and there's a tree that looks like a bottlebrush tree but may not be that. It has clumps of thorny, bristly, pointy sharp needle type leaves in a muted yellow. A dusty yellow. Like if you had a yellow desk and never dusted it for months. That yellow.
All that I have heard and all that I have seen is outside me. But it is also inside me now. Everything seems to get inside. The body - these arms, legs, stomach, ankle, finger, neck, collarbone, cavity - all seem to be formed of memories. Of whatever I have seen so far, for so long.
What is this body then? What does it stop? What does it allow?
Comments
So that u can write something cheerfull.
:-)