Firefly

photo by David Backes

There was a firefly in my room for some months. I mentioned it on twitter the first time I saw it, of course. Interestingly, I only really notice it when I'm at my weariest. Once, I tried leaving my bedroom door open in the hopes that it would find its way out. If not back to nature, at least out of my domain. I still saw it a few times after that and only when my room was at its darkest and still when my body is at its weakest.

On the early, after midnight - pre-sunrise, morning of January 2 2013, I was ready to descend into a glorious food coma when I saw the bug flashing again. It seemed more pathetic this time. Isolation wasn't doing it any favours. It drifted across my line of sight to the bare wall in my room opposite my single window and blinked a bit in the corner near the door.

I rushed to turn on my bedside/desk lamp mock-up in the hopes of catching the thing to free it. By the time I was standing where I last saw it, it disappeared. I stood there for a little while, just staring in the corner thinking: "Is this schizophrenia? Is this firefly a symptom of some kind of psychosis I've developed?"

As I was turning around to head back to bed I spotted the firefly further along the wall, closer to the opposite corner. It was a bit small so I was worried I might crush it if I tried to hold it directly. I rummaged through the junk in my room and found a small plastic container to coax it into. Capping the container with one hand then picking up my keys with the other, I walked triumphantly to the front door.

Outside I gave the container a shake but I could still see that black spot in the container's white lining so I moved closer to the potted flowers on the veranda for another, harder shake. At first I didn't see any sign of it, which at least that meant it definitely wasn't in the container anymore. As I was turning to go back in I briefly glanced some rapid flashing in a flower pot.

It was free! I was free. I felt truly, and to me, strangely happy for this simple thing and I actually pulled off a smile. For an instant, again I thought: "Is this schizophrenia? Is this firefly a symptom of some kind of psychosis I've developed?" but then I wondered if maybe this experience was supposed to have some deeper more positive meaning.

Silly thoughts and unimportant experiences maybe, but 20-baker's dozen might just turn out to be something special. Let's hope.

Now Playing: Ed Sheeran 'Firefly'

考え
Hey, you,.I probably want you to do a guest post

Splints

A poem! Haven't finished one of these in years. No preview 4 you !!!!!!!!

feather and water by Paul G

A poem! Haven't finished one of these in years. No preview 4 you !!!!!!!!

I'm drawn to the bird with the broken wing
Its ruffled feathers imply rare vulnerability
It's bittersweet songs permeate my mind
This therapy I've developed is my applause
I provide splints and care for songs I'd never sing

Eventually, it'll heal and fly again
They never stay
I wouldn't want them to
My time for a stain on their memories
I provide the splints and care to not be forgotten

Now Playing - Blackbird by The Beatles 

Treading Water

Who pays attention to these tweets?

I love AlunaGeorge's 'Your Drums, Your love' music video. The subject of which is two people of questionable romantic status who run into each other at an art gallery featuring work from Arran Gregory. It just so happened that everyone else there appeared to be choreographed dancers, popping and locking and framing the couple. The contrast between the dancers and the subtler movements of the two main players was enjoyable and never too distracting to me. Aluna's dress, on the other hand, actually drew my attention a few times watching the video. Along with the forced perspective necklace, shoes and bag all of which she wore damn well.

Of course, I connect with the song itself too. Not because I can directly relate to the singer's point of view but because I knew someone who probably could. These words could have been directed my way. One doesn't build an ego from such things though. It's a heavy feeling and not one I readily invite.

I think I've seen this song silently play out. Most people retrospectively recognize the one that got away. But I've been in, what I'm sure is, a rare situation where I realized what I could possibly be letting go of before it happened. Yet I still let it happen. I was scared. Fear is an emotion that has destroyed many an opportunity in my life. So... nothing new, really.

考え

I'm sorry, happy belated