Friday, January 3, 2014

The Space Between



I.               I should tell you that some things don't go away even when they're gone. Not even when the only record of them ever happening is the memory itself. Not even when the heat of the sun fries them as if they were ants on the sidewalk on a hot Mojave day.

II.              Hold on. Don’t hold on.

III.            Memories are records of what was but also of what is and what will never be.

IV.            It is a shame that a person can’t attend his or her own funeral. Nothing would scare us if we could reach across time with a Sharpie and put our initials on everything that makes us shine.

V.             Fears are the real ghosts of this world.

VI.            Boo!

VII.          Imagine a world in which all of our wishes were premonitions. In that world the space between us would never cause us pain.

VIII.         I look at your photograph and find myself marveling at the way time is deepening the hollows around your eyes, when I know full well it is nonsense to think I can hold on to the things that don’t belong to me.

IX.            It is nonsense to think we can hold on to the things we love.

X.             And so I marvel at how formidable I am when the moon is in Sagittarius and the songs are in my heart. 

XI.            Memory is the space between us. And by ‘us’ I mean it is the ‘and’ between you and me.

XII.          Memory is the last time I held your hand in mine. Memory is all the times our lips will never meet. Memory is an individual chronology of ghosts.

XIII.         The only way to combat inertia is to act.

XIV.        What is the point of remembering? For instance:
a.)    I was once on a plane that almost crashed in a typhoon at Narita Airport.
b.)    I once got married.
c.)    I once spent an entire night awake in a bed watching a man sleep because I knew there was a very good chance I would never get to sleep beside him again.
d.)    I once held a smiling child in my arms, whispering to him that although he would never remember the moment, I would never forget it.

This is what I’m talking about.
Memories are not images.
They are feelings.
Apparitions.


1 comment:

  1. Was reading this under the humpback (Gibbons) moon last night (actually at twilight on my I phone) and tried to comment by recording the sounds of the evening; the cooing s of two morning doves in a tall ancient pine, the lonely calling of a whippoorwill from the woods on the other side of RR tracks (CSX line) along the coastal highway, US 17 north, the rumbling wheels and blasting horn of a south bound 70 mph freight, and the whining wheels of trucks and autos on that old highway that was once nothing but a foot path for Native Americans (but my iphone overheated and shut down).... "Hold on. Don’t hold on." that is the question; Nobel or not, i must hold on to our friendship. I have read this before, actually several times since January, but have not commented, fears of ghosts that only i can hear, the cause. However, i have overcome them, for a time - The Space Between is very very very good. Yours, always, in love & literature,
    Stephie

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