learning out loud

Sometimes I wish I didn’t learn quite so out loud, with tear streaked face and an obvious ache. But when it comes down to it I am also glad that It still messes me, that im not always in control. I don’t want to be able to answer everything I don’t want to be able to box all my experiences without a bit of trouble. It feels more realistic to me to not have the answers. On the odd occasion I grin at the floundering.

patch

This morning I wake up smeared across our suburbs, saliva and hands in each others pockets, our pictures on each others walls, a crick neck from this mess of people and bedding. I stumble morningly into your housemates and we share that awkward moment of well meaning and not quite having our people antenna’s on yet. Coffee on the pavement and shoes on. Awake is what they call it but I am fog yawning and stretching. We congregate in lumps of shared coffee and that gentle unsurity about what it means to be who we are and just how to do it.
Later it is sharing food and giggling trying to do headstands on the train, It is chalk and spraypaint and running, it is epic bike rides and rooftop conversations.
And occasionally it is bleeding lips and faces smeared with sadness, arms like thin jumpers wrapped round each other to try and contain a whale of ache. It is jittering limbs and attempts to distract.
Now it is reflection and words for the page and the inevitable rolls out ‘thank you, thank you so much for not letting me go just yet’

hung up on ok

At 5:30pm ‘c-u-lunk’ we both hung up. I heard you and then followed suit. What preceded was a non-fussed exchange of ‘see-ya’ and ‘bye’. The kind that is confident in its lack of longevity despite any plans to the otherwise. We mentioned some ribbons of time, that could end in several places: my house, your house, breakfast, dinner, writing essays together.
I don’t know if either of us will brave the rain, will decide that we can study together, despite quite firmly confirmed knowledge that we can’t. I revel in the not knowing, the concept expands and I apply it to everything I can think of, because I don’t really know anything. There is an assumption that I will get up and pee soon, but it could be wrong, there is an assumption that I will finish my degree and be a nurse next year, but really, who knows, maybe I will instead decide to live in a coal power station with my friends, or travel around with a tape recorder and a book and a camera. Or fall asleep and never ever wake up again.
The creeping possibilities need to stay about I think, if I am to remain un-ashen in my cheeks and the trills of thoughts speeding through my circuitry. It’s a reason I need these phone times. These splattering shakes of thought and possibility, never really needing to be coupled with plans, but more as reminders and inspirers, as jumpstarts for idea’s that will curve through like water eroding rock. That will ensure the rock does not win me over, till I am under it [Capitalist. Consumerist. Disconnected. Undone. Unfun.]