Random Thoughts — 1
And, We are searching our Home, in Her.
Whoever she is.
Wherever she is.
And we find ourselves lost, on our way to Her.
Let the kid cry for the balloon.
Let the empty room eat you away.
Let the darkness look back at you.
Let the mirror hate you.
Let there be Nothing.
So that, one day, there will be Light.
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That’s what makes us Human. That’s what makes us yearn for things. Long for em. Human enough to wage a bloody war and Human enough to enjoy the spoils and Human enough to not find way back home.
And so the Sirens sang, “All the things you want it to be. Then, all the things you wish you’d never wish for. It was the delicious itch you go to scratch but find it’s under the skin, you can’t reach it. So the delicious itch becomes unbearable. Told you what you most want is what you most can’t have. And what you most can’t have is what you already had…and lost…. It was the song of all promises I failed to keep. And it told me I don’t really want to go home.”
Home is where you find peace, and Oddyseus knew there was no peace to be found. Not at home, nor within, nor in the arms of Penelope, nor in the warm halls of Ithaca. But he would have gone, anyways.
Wherefore, the Gods vouchsafed unto him this journey, anywhere but home.
The woman at the next table wrote something on a scrap of paper. Then she began to fold it, slowly, the way you’d handle a moth that wasn’t quite dead. Each crease lined up exactly with the one before. She pressed the last fold harder than the others, running her thumbnail along it twice. Then she just looked at it. Her coffee had stopped steaming. At some point she noticed me watching. So I looked away and pretend to study the menu card.
