Ian Anderson 5 p.m., Sept. 29
- Community Blog
- Journal of a restless heart
I ask for your silence to stop yelling at me
My fingers have become my resting shoulder in such times of need. They have become an extension of my soul. These fingers of mine have seen moments of great joy and felt moments of cold darkness. They know every secret and they never judge. I feel my heart beat through them as they wipe my tears or outline my smile for my eyes to see on paper. These fingers of mine have become the vessel that my heart uses to speak. How I wish to silence them sometimes. How I dread waking up from my daze and realizing what they have said for the world to see. What they will say tonight who knows but I know we shall soon see.
So here I am sitting in this crowded coffee shop. Voices all around filling the silence my mind is creating. This feeling of noise surrounding me is like a blanket of comfort. Its strange how the circus music in the background perfectly becomes the soundtrack of my life. I sometimes wonder what people are thinking around me. What thoughts are crossing their minds? What makes them tick? Do they know any more about life that I don't know? I believe everyone has a story to tell and I want to hear them. Maybe knowing theirs would allow me to escape mine. sigh I'm done with this outing. Like some famous dead guy once said, "I went out to get a fresh appetite for being alone." May not be an exact quote but close enough. I'm sure my point was made.
I think it's wonderful how a picture can say a thousand words. What if it actually did say a thousand words? What words would it use? Would it describe itself? I found a picture recently and I wonder now what it would say. Would it mention how randomly we found each other? Maybe it would mention how the world would spin for us as if in a drunken ecstasy where no one else was around except you and I. I would hope it would mention how when we had our arms around each other life seemed complete. I would hope it would mention the warmth that surrounded us in the cold of the night. I hope it would mention and reveal all the secrets behind the smiles. I hope it would mention my inner peace at that exact moment. As I look at the picture I realize it's not much different than the coffee house. The picture is full of words that I can hear but can't understand and leaves me wondering what its thinking. It provides a soundtrack for a moment in my life that I can't forget as it blares in my memory. It leaves me suspended in a moment of lifelessness that provides a smile as a tear slowly creeps its way to the dimple on my cheek.
You beauty and intrigue is like a rose. As I try to hold on to you, my hand bleeds. I let go and I'm left with the scars and the pain so I try to walk away as I see you wither away in the barren desert of my life. You become like the oasis that gave me life and the memories become like the mirage I dream of when my soul thirst for you again.
If a picture could say just three words to describe this exact moment it would say just this, "I miss us."
More like this:
- My Brunch With Yoko - excerpt from the Story of Rock 'N' Roll Comics — Aug. 1, 2013
- A Kingdom No Longer Magic — March 19, 2012
- A Kingdom No Longer Magic (a short story) — Oct. 27, 2011
- How to Paint a Portrait — June 28, 2007
- Karen Wilkening: My Own True Story — Oct. 3, 1991