Before 8 a.m. @ Leroy's
Little birds with crazy mohawks hop around my feet collecting crumbs. I would like to walk to Leroy's every morning to spend this early hour reflecting, dreaming, looking at people and little birds and six-trunked trees encircled in flagstone and surrounded by iron tables and chairs speckled in sunlight. I can see a burst of it right now in my hair that is shining on my right shoulder and a few small specks on my left knee and hand, the shadows of the tree giving it a kalidascope effect. Oh, there goes mohawk...
I think it's time to try writing again, but I have these annoying voices telling me not to waste my time...they say, "you have no memory for details...writers remember details...and you're not really interesting or exotic in any way...no one has anything to learn from you...unless they needed a little help writing a high school-level essay, figuring out what the hell Shakespeare was trying to say, or determining what the character Piggy symbolizes in Lord of the Flies."
It is so like my own ego to beat me down...pretending to warn me about wasting time...but really is it afraid I might discover something amazing?...like I am not my ego? Then where would it be? At least, sometimes, I can recognize it for what it is now. If only I could shut it up completely.
Up! Mohawk just came back - all squeaky and adorable - taking me away from my "self" for a moment. I love you, Mohawk.
I'm aching to connect with new people in a more natural way. I am hiding behind my earphones and my notebook. It's like being alone inside a movie...or one of those dreams where you are in it, but not in it...no one can see or hear you. I feel safe this way, invulnerable. But I risk nothing and form no new relationships. I wonder why I am leary of new relationships.
I notice dog owners seem more willing to reach out. They seem happier. But are they hiding behind their pets the way I hide behind my notebook and earphones? The way I used to hide behind cigarettes? Interesting. What are we all so afraid of?
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