quiet_seeds (quiet_seeds) wrote,
quiet_seeds
quiet_seeds

the phases of this blending of time passing. a while ago i was concerned about my open mouth and lack of presence behind it, in the break room at work, in the classroom. from the vantage point of my bed, feeling out of control, disconnected from the body i inhabit each day.

then, for a while, i am not sure how long, i wasn't feeling that. and then, i started again. i think, just this week. this monday, this tuesday, this feeling of not-having-any-patience. not snapping at the kids, not not having time for their thises and their thats, but just not being present. hearing my voice scold or coerce, from afar. somehow it feels like lack of patience, but it's really a semantic confusion. i am patient with kids, i am present with kids, and i confuse the two.

and kids looks so funny on the page, those kids. who are those kids who are drumming my day into the rough spots of my knees. waiting at the train stop with julian, and he's giddy over the N-judah and i am there with him, sitting down with my head in my hands because i am too far away to feel the joy. his face three-quarter turned away from me, placed perfectly to see the train emerge from the tunnel, standing in the spot where at four foot eight inches you can see the most emergent part. when it stops, he likes to get the attention of someone on the train to ask them what stop they are getting off at. i encourage this, though i probably shouldn't. we differentiate between a point and a wave, and i explain how if you say "excuse me" the people will be less confused and more willing to listen to and answer the tousled-hair wide-eyed boy jumping up and down before them.

by the bathrooms today, my co-worker and i were discussing something and she came out with your eyes are so blue right now! and i felt a reversal. those things you notice about people, that you never think could be about you. i'm sad she's leaving, but also glad because our camaraderie (so rare for me) makes me feel sloppy, perhaps because i confess my laziness to her frequently rather than pretending no one notices (no one does notice; i am a perfectionist).
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