It rained this past Monday. Sure, the heat has pretty much cooked the roof of my house to the point that there's a tiny leak it in somewhere. However, we needed the rain, and we needed it bad. More importantly, I needed the rain. I love when it rains. It feels great to walk out and feel the rain on my face... the blessed rain. I miss it.
On the shuttle on Monday and I saw a girl... a very strange enchanted girl, like the old Nat 'King' Cole song used to say. OK, so not so much strange, but enchanted yes. I don't know how to describe what it was about her, but I'll start by saying that it was her movements. While everyone at the shuttle stop was standing around, like me, she was moving around us like a hummingbird moves around a group of flowers.
I had a little talk with Michelle Tuesday night. Some things came out in our conversation that disturbed me. She was saying stuff about someone she knews and calling him ugly, and such. What I didn't like about it is that this person is still a human being and ok, maybe he isn't the greatest looking guy in the world... so what? Honestly, our society puts so much emphasis on looks that people think that it's the only thing that matters. It's why girls think that they are fat if they weigh more than a hundred pounds. Or why so many guys think that they can put a woman down if she doesn't fit the Barbie model of what is thought to be perfect. What is perfect anyway? To me this girl on the shuttle was perfect, but not because she was physically beautiful. I don't even remember what she looked like, except for her face. It had such a far away look that I couldn't keep myself from looking. It was like looking into the ocean and wondering of lies beneath. Still waters run deep. I should have said something to her, but at that moment I was thrilled to the point that I could not move.
There are so many thoughts going through my head that I can't find the words or the time to put them all down now. I need to sort them out. All I ever wanted was Kat. I wish upon ever star I could see in the sky, night after night, until I ran out of stars. I ran out of hope. So, I sit and write about myself in the characters that come out on the page. I think of what I felt at any given moment in my life and I put it on the page as best I can. There are times when I can't and I think to myself, I can't find the words because there aren't any words for that silly. Some things can't be said with words, they have to be said with music, or painting, or.... but not with words. Words are often inadequate, but it's what I've picked as my medium. I could pick up a paint brush and try to express myself that way, but it's not me. Words are my paint and a blank sheet of paper my canvas. It's often inadequate, as I said, but it's what I'm good at.