When Sam was little, she strung strings from her closet to her desk. She made tiny paper soldiers, each with a tactical gun, and attached them to the strings and sent them down the zip lines to rescue her. As an adult, when we were dating, she showed me(more) one of the soldiers resting in her palm but still ready for action.
Sometimes I think I know something about a person and then later, usually much later, realize I know nothing at all. When Sam showed me the origami soldier and told me she'd filled her room with them, it should have meant more to me. "You," I might have said, "must have felt overwhelmed by a circumstance. Can you tell me?" TELL being the operative word.
Sam said she played with the soldiers for hours--by herself. I imagine her playing silently. I can see the brownness of her eyes, intent. Another soldier made. Attached. Sent down the line. How did she attach them? She is a smart woman. Had to be a smart child, possibly made even more brilliant by whatever she faced. "I played until I was called down for supper," she said," and then swaggered off towards her dogs and her kitchen. We never talked about her soldiers again.
When loneliness strikes, really fills me, I review the people I have rejected, the possible mistakes I have made in rejecting them. I think today how could I have rejected someone, however angry she was, who had once played with paper soldiers in a game she invented all herself? The trouble is I don't remember her last name, only that she had a name she used to say sounded "like a movie star." I can't find her, just this small memory.
The waitress who refilled my scratched yellow coffee cup wore a pair of dollar-store earrings. I watched the slender box chains jiggle as she walked away, a cubic zirconia chip at the end of each one, just above her shoulders, sparking in the sunlight.
(more)I was in the corner of Utah tucked between Wyoming and Idaho, but only for an hour. This was just a stop on my bus ride to Somewhere Better.
When I got on the bus days before in fresh new clothes, unsnipped strings forgotten by the factory dangling on the inside of seams, I'd pictured a straight shot, wheels and miles rolling away beneath me, the road ribboning away into hills behind me, time shedding as I moved forward.
I hadn't expected my string to tangle on the way to Somewhere Better.
Do I only get one string? What if I've snapped it?
Before I left, I stole a wall map of the United States and a roll of rough twine from my school. I laid it on the floor of my bedroom, a brick weighting each corner, and stuck pins in all the places I'd been. I unrolled the twine, stretched it between and wound it around the pins in the order I'd traveled between them. I got dizzy, I got lost and had to start over - once, again, again, again.
When it was done, I sat back on my heels and plucked at the longest length of twine, the one I hadn't actually traveled yet, from There to Wherever It Ended. It made a dull sound and settled into stillness in half a blink.
In half a blink, the twine had snapped. As I sat in the cafe watching the waitress's tiny strings sway, I grasped after both ends of the string.
Not everyone goes about life happy-go-free. The Fool, however, does. His shoulders remain unchipped, thanks to what amounts not to optimism but to chronic obliviousness to the larger questions of the universe that occur to those with the capability for self reflection. The Fool thinks of himself not as(more) "I", but as "The Fool". He sees himself as a unique person in a unique world, and greets each experience without any prejudice; and in this way he avoids dimming his pleasures or exacerbating his sorrows. This is what separates him from the common man.(less)
Fully e-interactive machine
is my Christian name.
Fem is prettier though,
(more) like me.
I come with a lifetime warranty.
If I am defective
you can exchange me
at any of millions
of global locations.
If you wish to upgrade
I can be traded in
(Fine print: you pay the difference)
I would never
have a chip on my shoulder
because I have one in my shoulder
to modulate the pitch
of my voice.
is attractively concealed
by a panel of tattooed skin.
Your choice of design.
I am fully pose-able.
Strong and supple
in my pelvic
and leg regions
ankles behind ears
for hours of fun
whatever fits into your packed schedule.
(Choose a self-cleaning model so you can walk away when you've finished with Fem.)
I sync with all
I am supported by
every operating system
and the first month is free.
(Please call within 30 days to cancel free trial. Keep all original packaging)
After my initial installation
in your life
you can visit the app store
for add-ons to my personality
my musical tastes
Your Fem, your way.
(Call or go online today.
Fem is waiting for you.)