My apologies. I am nostalgic tonight.
A series of events:
At 9:30 this morning I listened to a student explain to his class what a “mosh pit” was.
A line in a play. My voice with no air behind it, just my heartbeat pushing it through.
Feeling the limits of motion I have made for myself. I am so timid these days.
I traded in, traded up, grew up. I no longer wear home-made shirts that declare
TESTOSTERONE KILLS BRAIN CELLS
BEWARE OF GOD, but I also don’t raise my voice, not intentionally anyway. When I stopped looking at my body, I also stopped doing anything that might cause anyone else to look. I discovered inhibition and called it restraint. I wasn’t always afraid of looking stupid. I have taught myself fear and called it reason.
At 11:45 I realized that my 10 year college reunion will happen this year.
A girl with long, straight, hair, and her shirt buttoned just one button off. I am stuck with an image of myself, jeans and a flannel shirt and no shoes. The shirt is a reddish-brown plaid, heavy and slightly scratchy. I took it out of my father’s closet; it is too small for him and too big for me. I am not wearing a bra. I still think that no one can tell. I feel such a strange, wry, affection for this girl, who I envy and pity, who just doesn't know yet.