And I think today is the anniversary of my grandfather's death
Tuesday, 3 August 2004 03:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carose59"He Paints a Painting a Day Because He's In Prison For Selling Quaaludes."*
-:- -:- -:-
There are no messages for me on my voicemail at work. The phone does not ring for me, unless my mother happens to call, a very seldom thing.
There is no reason for me to have my home number on the speed dial. The cats do not answer the phone when it rings.
It's Tuesday again.
I get up on Tuesdays, wondering why I'm still here. I hate Tuesdays.
It all happened yesterday, yesterday. No time has passed at all. Everyone else has moved forward and my feet are buried in that day, I don't move forward at all. It was twilighty when I went to wake her up. I didn't know she was dead until they told me. I wish I had. If I'd known, I wouldn't've called anyone right away.
My mother thinks I've had the worst thing happen to me, waking up next to Pat, dead. (Pat dead, not me. Waking up dead. Some mornings, waking up dead doesn't sound so bad, but I don't know how to arrange it.)
Anyway, my mother. I didn't tell her it isn't, the worst part is I never got to hold her again, though I did pet her hair, and I did kiss her goodbye. There are zillions of analogies and none of them is right. Everything is the same and everything is different. I want to just get on a plane and fly to Coney Island (I never got to take Pat there), I want to walk along the beach (but I don't know why), I want to ride the Cyclone, I want to move unhurriedly through it all. But I don't know why because there's no point going out when there's nothing to come back to.
I don't know if I'm depressed. Maybe. I know I just don't care about much of anything. Things that used to matter cause a twinge, then vanish. People who used to rule my life—
I still love them. But I don't know why. What difference does it make?
Take the sun out of the solar system, then explain to the planets how to get along without it, without gravity. Let me know how it works out.
*Herb Tarlek
-:- -:- -:-
There are no messages for me on my voicemail at work. The phone does not ring for me, unless my mother happens to call, a very seldom thing.
There is no reason for me to have my home number on the speed dial. The cats do not answer the phone when it rings.
It's Tuesday again.
I get up on Tuesdays, wondering why I'm still here. I hate Tuesdays.
It all happened yesterday, yesterday. No time has passed at all. Everyone else has moved forward and my feet are buried in that day, I don't move forward at all. It was twilighty when I went to wake her up. I didn't know she was dead until they told me. I wish I had. If I'd known, I wouldn't've called anyone right away.
My mother thinks I've had the worst thing happen to me, waking up next to Pat, dead. (Pat dead, not me. Waking up dead. Some mornings, waking up dead doesn't sound so bad, but I don't know how to arrange it.)
Anyway, my mother. I didn't tell her it isn't, the worst part is I never got to hold her again, though I did pet her hair, and I did kiss her goodbye. There are zillions of analogies and none of them is right. Everything is the same and everything is different. I want to just get on a plane and fly to Coney Island (I never got to take Pat there), I want to walk along the beach (but I don't know why), I want to ride the Cyclone, I want to move unhurriedly through it all. But I don't know why because there's no point going out when there's nothing to come back to.
I don't know if I'm depressed. Maybe. I know I just don't care about much of anything. Things that used to matter cause a twinge, then vanish. People who used to rule my life—
I still love them. But I don't know why. What difference does it make?
Take the sun out of the solar system, then explain to the planets how to get along without it, without gravity. Let me know how it works out.
*Herb Tarlek