Fucking Phone

I almost didn’t write today. I have to stop getting distracted by my phone when I wake up.

When I wake up… it’s after 8pm.

After completing a project, I’m a mess. Everything has been ripped out of me.

And then, as with any earthquake, the tsunami comes crashing into the shore. I’m so fortunate that life knows how to get out of my way when I’m working on something wonderful… and then, as soon as I’m finished, everything that the Muse has been shielding me from comes crashing in, as She steps out of the way to reveal the ruined landscape behind Her.

I watched Mark Osbourne’s More last night (I watch it a lot)… what a great movie. What a great score.

My family in NY (we all have family in NY) just landed in the group chat to say that all their friends are dying. My family in London (we all have family in London) said the same. I am so fortunate that they are alive to tell me this.

Ok, dreams. I barely remember, but here we go.

I was sitting at the boy’s kitchen table. I believe the sink was running, but it was in the wrong spot, over on the counter next to the fridge. There were dishes in the sink. The light had a yellow hue, the air had an unusual dampness to it (I might have been sweating in my blankets)

And a pile of mail on the table. It was addressed to his mother, who’s name I might know if he told me once, and I filed it away (I remember the name printed, I have to look it up to see if I’m right). The mail was bills for his mother, who was either sick or dead.

He opened an envelope, and looked at me. His face, as beautifully expressive as it is. The corners of his mouth trembled, his effort to control them visible as his upper lip tried to remain taught, his eyebrows struggling to stay taught, but still the muscles between them were tense. His eyes locked with mine, and they were red. He was trying to be fine, because what else does one do?

The sink was dripping.

I picked up my phone and it dinged loudly in my face with a message from the boy

His eyes are the same color as my dog’s – almost brown but instead red. It’s a weird type of hazel, like an actual hazelnut.

I’m still on my phone, why.

Like the wild animal that he is, he has edged in and circled back and is trying to maintain contact. I’ve seen this before with wild animals. I’m allowing it.

The other man that I was seeing before all this is texting also, still insistent. He’s a different type of person altogether. It’s not that I don’t want to be involved with him, but I don’t need to be, and while he is objectively interesting for sure, for some reason I don’t feel for him the way I do for the boy. At all. I don’t know why I don’t just tell him and send him on his way, he does have a lot to offer someone.

I don’t know what the point of my writing is today, I think I missed the ship.

I don’t know what the point of today is, I’d better go find out.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Anna says:

    I found a person, in the general area, who has the same name as the name I saw on the boy’s mail in my dream. I don’t know if it’s his mother.

    But she does have his eyes.

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