they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Friday, August 12, 2005

When I'm feeling stuck and need a buck...

The hook brings you back. At least, that’s what Blues Traveler would like us to believe. When I was younger, I desperately wanted the words of the song to be “The heart brings you back,” because I thought I was deep and introspective and pensive and well, I thought heart made more sense. But now, I think hook is more accurate and nothing can illustrate this point better than my frequent rendez-vous with the putrid.

It’s true, the little putrid everyday things have a way of shouting at me, getting my attention, making my gag reflex kick in and my eyes water and I just don’t get what force is behind pulling my eyes to the disgusting road kill and my shoes to dog poop and so, I think it’s the hook, which is a metaphor for whatever I will decide it means later. I’ll keep you updated.

But anyway, on walks or runs around the neighborhood, I’ll be staring straight ahead, minding my business when something inside of me will say, “Jessi, now is a good time to look at the street,” and I’ll look and there it will be, a squirrel in full rigamortis or a bird with its guts strewn all about. This has started to happen more frequently and the icing on the cake was Wednesday night. I pulled up to my friend’s house and got out of the car. I was standing on the median in the grass, getting my purse from the passenger seat and when I looked down, I was standing millimeters from the beautiful body of a once-living gold finch. I screamed, jumped back and thought for sure I had stepped on it. I hadn’t, but still, it wasn’t a pleasant thought.
And so, I’m wondering what putrid eye candy I will be graced with later today or tomorrow or this week and how I will react when I see it. If I was strange, I might start documenting it, creating a theory about why it happens and then writing a thesis about the invisible hook that, like the force of gravity, draws my eyes down to the disgusting. But, though it was strange enough for me to even think about doing that, I'll write it off as a random thought and will, instead, invest in a pair of really dark sunglasses that are just as hard to see out of as to see into. Maybe then, I'll be able to go a day without staring death in the face.


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