A Method To The Madness
we are casual people.
we undress and leave our clothes in a pile on the floor
and kick off our socks while yelling our order of miso soup
and egg rolls into the phone to the Chinese store down the block.
we fall asleep and drool on our pillows and pick eye boogers from the corners of our eyes every morning,
telling ourselves that no one has seen them before we have flung them away.
we drink wine knowing it makes us tired and we laugh with the ease of a billionaire with no bills and no worries.
we are busy people.
we run with coffee filled to the brim of our fancy styrofoam cups
hoping somehow in our high heels,
we'll catch the train doors before they close.
we multitask like it's nobody's business,
and everyone's business is ours,
even though our business is too secret.
everyone walks too slow for us and even when we're late,
we have the whole MTA to blame before we admit we were late to no fault, but our own.
we are distracted.
we pick up new hobbies daily and lie and fall for new lovers
as routinely as the sun rises and sets.
we are cruel.
some more than others
and some more often than not,
but there are those few that don't stop at the chance to antagonize one another.
there’s a thinning in their blood
which makes them fight more because they know they’ll bleed less than their opponent,
but they cover themselves with tattoos and guard with offensive gestures.
they line their backs with sport jerseys and windbreakers to bolster against the opposition,
feigning relief and ignoring the bruises they make until they lay on their backs at night and
feel every single one.
we search for who we are
especially when we graduate
and move on to our lives in colleges
set in busy cities or quiet woods,
but it will never be one moment of understanding.
every moment we live,
every road trip we embark on,
and every finger we accidentally burn while ironing our shirt in the unforgiving rays of the morning
make us who we are, for good or for bad;
we are married to this life and as often as we may try to file for divorce from it,
it is a difficult gift to return.
so when we wake up in the darkness of the morning to the sound of a lightning storm
or catch the bottom of our coats in between our car doors, take it in stride.
my advisor all throughout high school told me that every adventure and interaction she had was
another page added to her memoir and i’ve lived my life accordingly;
adding dogeared memories and freshly printed moments to the pages of my story.
after one year of college comes to an end,
the questions and adversities become no less challenging,
but my level of knowledge and understanding has caught me off guard.
as distracted and cruel,
as busy and as casual as we may be,
there is no level of expectancy in us.
we live to learn and learn to live because:
we are simply, undefined.