Saturday, February 20, 2010

raw pieces

I breathe in. I feel alive. The sun is brilliant in the sky. The snow crunches beneath my feet as I walk toward no destination in particular. I just needed to get away. Far from the confinement of my grey-walled cage where the air is poor and work slow this day.

Crunch crunch.
The sounds of eating raw vegetables. Raw.

Waves of apathy wash over me as I rinse soapy plates in the sink.

In the background, the faint sounds of ice dancing music and I try to watch some of the couples as I continue my mundane task. It is late and I’m tired.

I try to do the right thing but it would seem I always come up a tad short. Like I’ve almost completed a puzzle and I take a step back to admire my work, and about 20 pieces are missing. The picture isn’t complete and I can’t figure out where those pieces went missing. Did I throw them out by accident? Perhaps, they got mixed up in another puzzle box. It frustrates me and no matter how hard I try, with every puzzle, there are always missing pieces. Is this resulting from lack of wisdom? Did I do it on purpose without even noticing? I don’t get it.

Crunch crunch. I’m already sick of celery but I’m also sick of having to buy new jeans.

I work better in the morning. Or how about not at all?