Tag: bed
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Photo
I wish you’d asked me why I chose a childhood photo of myself smiling to place beside my bed. I would have told you something halfway intelligent like it’s to remind myself I can still have some innocence even if I need a little illusion to help me get there. The truth is I refuse […]
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Stone Huts
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be a room where everything you looked at was you, and where everything you ever wanted could be had with a glance or touch. I like the idea of learning from an old mentor one who has a long white beard as big as he is, […]
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Poster
I used to think beauty was everything, and so, could be the poster of the swimsuit model I pinned on my bedroom wall, opposite the bed so, it was the first thing I saw when I woke and the last thing I saw when I went to sleep. Someday you’ll have it, I told my […]
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Discipline
The earliest I can remember feeling it was in that time between pulling my pants down, and waiting for Mom to come in. I was probably around 6. I’d put my arms up on the bed and stare at the wall as a way of trying to not make any gesture she might find undesirable. […]
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Train
One place I used to retreat to when I was a kid was under our mobile home on a bed of sand where I listened to spiders making noises and imagined I’d found an ancient tomb in some exotic place and to this day this is how I think about my own thinking whenever I […]
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Cushion
When it comes to the loneliness epidemic and what I think about it, it’s seeing the good in being lonely, and loneliness in being good, that I find truly good. I came to this conclusion one night during the workweek, when, after having a really fine day at work, I found myself lying back on […]
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Fire
Each time a moustache hair hurts me I fantasize about spooning an anonymous woman in my twin bed and brushing my lips across the back of her head. I’m pretty sure I do this in order to feel what it might be like to be her face, since I like to fold perception back through […]
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Headlights
My imagination has always been a little library of worry, where I drift from room to room observing the imaginary goings on in an attempt to not only predict what might happen should I not change, but garner some knowledge as to how to behave in waking life. So why wouldn’t I think they’ve always […]
the real subject is always you 