Drifting thoughts of a snowflake

Friday, October 15, 2004


I remember being about 6 years old and loving baths. My hair was down to my but back then, and I would swirl my hair around in the water watching it whip past me. I desperately wanted to be a mermaid. I wanted to live hundreds of miles down in the sea, in a vast land of silent serenity. As a child I would lie with my nose above the water so I could breathe, while the rest of me was submerged. My eyes would start to sting as I stared up at the ceiling from underneath the blanket of warm tap water. It was quiet and peaceful. It was my escape.

I got home from dinner and drinks last night and found myself floating in my tub; trying to escape. I tried swooshing my hair around me, but it’s too short now. I can’t get the same weightless affect I use to embrace as a child. I looked up at the ceiling and starting thinking about how I need to paint the room soon. I wanted to escape, and yet my mind was turning pages of all the things I need to do. Peace, where are you?

I started to have a conversation with my grandfather, who passed away several months ago, in my mind. He told me to slow down, and that everything would get done. He tells me I will be fine. Yet, I couldn’t allow myself to be calm.

I laid there withering in the water, wishing to be a mermaid. I thought of how my beautiful tail would be iridescent and strong. Imagining I could swim away to new reefs should something disturb me. I long to be free to go as I please without a material home to tie me down, or a job with responsibilities, or a phone with demands.

I just want to be floating with my long hair again in a surreal and silent space.

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