January 22 2014

Writing Attempt: Editing a Scrap of Thought I Wrote Down Two Years Ago – Emailed to Myself and Forgot About Until Today.

 

In my drunkenly disordered state, her lips did less conveying and more swaying side, side (sigh) to side.

"Ohhh nooo" she said as she plunged her forearm into her handbag (double-wide).

I followed her every move raptly. Slowly. I bit my top lip somewhat casually. I wondered how long it would take for her to find whatever it was she was so desperate to find and hoped that it would take longer.

There was something intriguing about the way she told her body to move in order to complete a desperate task – an ability to let her thoughts shrink and her motor skills fatten. It was all fists and grabs and no one else exists until the task is completed, until the thing is found.  Find it strange or not – this is not the first time I’ve had this thought pause.

Born into best friend hood 32 years prior. We were beautiful babies. Our picture was on the front page of the Calhoun gazette. Headline: Babies of Best Friends Born at Exact Same Time!  457 people subscribe to that you know. They all saw it. Saw us. We were told they smiled at our synchronized arrival. So beautiful: twice! We grew up telling that story like we saw it. Like we were mentally there. We grew up fighting about that fact.

“We were there!” she’d say.

“Yeah, but did we see it? Can our eyes vouch for it or our memories vouch the truth beyond hearsay?”

“Infants are incredibly perceptive. They learn from the womb.”

“So then we ourselves are perceptive enough - hunter gatherers of info from birth. Why don’t more newborns pop out and write investigative reports for their local journals?”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it. Perception – like absorption – is not static.”

“All I’m saying is- if infants are that perceptive, that absorptive, when they arrive they should get a tell all book deal and pay for the cost of labor instead of mooching for decades until they find themselves.” My breath always shortens here.

“As per usual, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.”

“As per usual – I am reminded that we are the farthest away from friends than we were born to believe.” I looked at her elbow – crookedly protruding from her hand bag. It was so lovely. It was so hideous. “Did you find your thing?”

“My what?”

“What you were looking for.” I know. I failed.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad.” I reached out my hand and grabbed my favorite clump of her hair. “Want a walk home?” She didn’t answer. So I walked alongside her until she picked up her pace to let me know we were simultaneously okay and at our day’s limit.

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So I found this in my email today - it was a really bad thought/poemy thing that I am pretty sure I wrote to myself while on shift at least two years ago. I decided I liked a few lines from it and turned it into something much much better. While talking to another writer today, I realized that a lot of this process for me is learning how to edit. So today -  I edited this tiny thing. Hopefully in the near future I can find enough focus and humility to edit the big thing I want to.

 

Thank You All for being here.

 

-ClassyB