It Is A Giggle Full Of High

I Stare At The Pile Of Discarded Remnants And Think Of My Mother. Did She Touch That Pillar There? Does Her Scent Still Linger In A Fragment Of Glass Or A Splinter Of Wood? A Terrible Emptiness Settles Into My Chest. No Matter How Much I Go About Living, There Are Always Small Reminders That Make The Loss Fresh Again.

As A Kid, I Imagined Lots Of Different Scenarios For My Life. I Would Be An Astronaut. Maybe A Cartoonist. A Famous Explorer Or Rock Star. Never Once Did I See Myself Standing Under The Window Of A House Belonging To Some Druggie Named Carbine, Waiting For His Yard Gnome To Steal His Stash So I Could Get A Cab Back To A Cheap Motel Where My Friend, A Neurotic, Death-obsessed Dwarf, Was Waiting For Me So We Could Get On The Road To An Undefined Place And A Mysterious Dr. X, Who Would Cure Me Of Mad Cow Disease And Stop A Band Of Dark Energy From Destroying The Universe.

People See What They Want To See When They Need To.

Please Do Not Strain Yourself, Miss Doyle. I Won't Have My Girls Going Cross-eyed In The Name Of Art.

We All Do Things We Desperately Wish We Could Undo. Those Regrets Just Become Part Of Who We Are, Along With Everything Else. To Spend Time Trying To Change That, Well, It's Like Chasing Clouds.