the cold keeps my eyes open. it keeps my body rigid. the idea of settling into sleep seems impossible. I should be sleeping right now, but all I can do is think, and survive the cold.
the snow falling outside is a billion soft flakes that look like glitter in the light of the streetlamps and the building anticipation of what it will look like in the morning--just a few hours away, when everyone is still asleep and I wrench myself from sleep and my bed--keeps my eyes open.
for the first time in my life, I have read every single word of a book. being a fast reader has turned me into someone who skims past chunks of stuff looking for the interaction between characters, the story, the stakes, the pull between what is right and what is wrong, and I usually find it in the dialogue, but in this book the use of quotation marks was abandoned, which left every word a mystery, and my eyes open.
searching, always searching, there is something to find and my eyes open will find it, I am sure, but I wonder if I really knew what I was looking for, or if it has always been looking for me and I just leap on what falls into my scope, never weighing against what I know about myself.
that snow makes me love Chicago. that book will haunt me for days. that searching will ruin me.
1 comment:
I bought a new coat with down and feathers inside. This is how I'm dealing with the shock and awe of Chicago winters. I'm still in the market for some thermal underwear though.
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