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Apr 22, 2003

I found out today that someone I haven't seen or talked to for a long time ran away. My ex-girlfriend, Deanna, is going crazy about this and contacting everyone who has ever had contact with Loren in an attempt to locate her. Her reaction immediately struck me as odd, although I must admit I didn't immediately know why. On the face of it, this crisis seems to justify whatever frantic action is possible. However, as I thought about it, my initial blasé reaction seemed more and more realistic and sensible.

First of all, Loren only left this morning. She's been gone only one day! I have a funny feeling that she's gone unsupervised for a lot longer than that without anyone getting terribly concerned. I am surprised that Deanna is so upset about Loren going on a simple day trip. She can take care of herself at least that long, and probably much longer.

Second, Loren is perfectly well-equipped to run away. She's got a car and a decent-sized wad of cash. It's not as though she's a frail innocent trapped alone in a hostile world. She can go wherever she wants and contact whoever she wants. She knows the area and she's smart.

I guess what really bugs me about Deanna's whole reaction is the way having "run away" seems to change all the normal rules in her mind. Running away is no different from leaving your house on an errand, as far as the dangers of the world are concerned. If Loren were to go on a road trip, she'd be in an exactly equal amount of danger: an amount that is no cause for alarm. Loren is leaving for college in a couple of months anyway, which is just another form of running away from home. What's the big deal when it's "running away"? Why can she not be trusted on her own for even a day without a frantic friend telephoning every human being she's ever been in contact with?

Some people just can't accept that they're grown-ups now. Everyone repeat after me: we have reached and passed the age of self-determination, and we're old enough to handle our own affairs a little.
Nick ::: 11:31 PM ::: 0 comments

Can I Get That Award to Go?

I'm here
underdressed
standing room only
on tired legs.

It's time
I clap again
someone I don't know
just won something I don't care about
good for them.

I feel
like I'm in a storm
the noise is awful
and the wind is long.

A yawn
dives for cover
behind a curled hand.

They call my name
practiced to the point of pronunciation
they stuff a certificate
in my grubby, outstretched hand.

Wasn't it worth it?

Interminable lists of names
a procession of orators
with carbon copy speeches
for just one moment
standing at stage self-conscious
mind a bit unconscious
lights bright
hands almost reaching for each other
when applauded.

Oops
mustn't clap for myself.

I could die here
crammed against this wall
instead of walking up
just keel over
kersplat
who would notice?

Until they call me again
blushfaced teacher
says my name
once more
to be sure.

Nope not here
he's gone
to a better place than this.

To think
my life could end in such pompous
and circumstancial ignominy.

But here I am
very much alive
only burning pearly hours
to celebrate excellent swine.

Give me my award
so I can leave.
Nick ::: 11:02 PM ::: 0 comments