DAY 50

We played house. Now we play life. I spent the last four days perched in a villa above an ocean I could not smell. Is it still borrowing, if my intentions are wholesome? I upgraded so that I could sit over the wing, because that's the safest place to fly according to my step-dad. Yeah, that's why I upgraded. To be safe incase anything were to happen (cracks in my disingenuous faith in the unbreakeable). I've popped a quarter of a xanax with three glasses of wine. To feel safe. Yeah, that's why I'm medicating. To feel safe. I'm trying to convince myself this isn't borrowing nor is it playing. It's just simply what it is. Now. Still trying to finger a groove. When I was in sixth grade I asked my mother for a training bra. She replied, "Training for what"? She knew the answer, she just wasn't prepared I would too. I couldn'tve verbalized it, but I felt it. I asked for a training bra because I knew my small breats, which were more likey a biproduct of being slightly overweight rather than hormones were not large enough to fill out a "real" bra. I asked for a training bra because it symbolized something I wanted to embody. SEX. I wanted boys to see I was wearing one underneathe my shirt. It was teasing and the only way they knew how to deal with it was by snapping. I wanted to be snapped. This was the beginning of objectification and I was ready for my number to be called. This was validation at it's innocent stages. My bra has grown into a C cup, really I thought that would never happen, thanks mom! It's no longer (such) young boys, the playground has been replaced (kinda) but the desire remains. I wrote my mother that I was reading Didion's "The Year of Magical Thinking." My contemporaries like Didion, her name has not been worn, as other's, yet. It carries the term "literary arts" subtley but no one I've encountered is "literary" enough to speak of her in an educated voice. In comes mama simply describing her as "lucid". I admit motivation for purchasing her stemmed from equal parts curiousity and ego. I read my mother's words with a coy smile and inferred a touch of resentment between the letters L, U, C, I and D. My fear these days is not being "genuine." I would like to embody "earnest," although I might be too self-obsessed to honor that title. Regardless, I see this all as material and have to remember we are ALL just playing along. It takes life to bring one back to size (something I'd rather not acknowledge most of the time). It takes wisdom to remind us that critical disctance is essential. It takes courage to see the importance of an opportunity while understanding the weight of time. I am 35,000 feet above you, but I am still right next to you.