some days

How did I get here?

The question beats in my head, an ululating cry. A pulsating orb of unknowing drifts down the back of my throat.

Home has never been more than a word. A concept etched into my brain deemed as essential. The ideals we create as humans, the solidity we crave. The fundamental flaw of these assumptions, this life as temporary -

Some days.

I long for the island I grew up on, the sleepiness of it, the slowness and the way it drips into your brain.

There are thunderstorms in the summer. One-day infernos where the sky splits open and the clouds puff thunder from their mouths, a large booming masterpiece.

On those days I lie quietly on my hard bed. I watch the trees bustle outside my window and listen to the droplets as they spit onto our roof. There’s a leak somewhere and the dripping sounds like the ticking of a clock as it counts down the minutes to my awakening.

Some days.

I don’t notice the passing of time.

Days where my schedule is ruled by school, meals and the sun’s trajectory across the universe.

I erupt onto my bed with the fatigue that this island invokes. My mind though, is born for another place. It zips along its path, untethered, conceiving of a future my body can’t contain.

Some days.

I watch New York on T.V. I read about it in magazines. I’ve never been but I know what it represents. It conjures up the energy I so crave, buildings stacked together, cars moving in conjunction with a train that collapses into itself like a fold-up book. This city could be magic. Where ambition is a monster, mine to pursue and tame. A conquered thing, think Godzilla, think King Kong as he beats his chest to the sky. This could be me. This could be mine. I carry this vision around with me, lugging it on my back on this small island. The fruition of hope is something beautiful, is something tragic. The achievement of what you once wished for, the thing you were grasping for suddenly made real in your hands. And with it, comes The loss. of anticipation, the Death of imagination.

Some days.

I’m standing on the corner of 14th and Broadway and the rain whips against my skin. I’m soaked head to toe and there are twinkly lights strung across the building. The chatter of human connection slips out of bars, steamy with life, compacted by breath. The traffic light turns red, the crowd surges, the pacing feet drum, the puddles slip into my feet like well-worn shoes.

Some days,

I think,

How did I get here?

Related posts:

I believe in resolutions. I believe in goals and focusing on specific things you want to improve in your life. I believe in progression. But maybe for the first time I’m being very intentional about…

Are you considering investing in real estate? If so, it is important to take a little time to figure out how the market works before you start spending your hard-earned money. Jumping into a purchase…

An uninterruptible power supply or UPS is a device that allows systems to keep running for a temporary time period when the principal power supply fluctuates or is lost. Power outages or blackouts…