The Iodent Hour

Sometimes i feel like i am a sponge. i am all hard and porous and i collect all this stuff just under the surface, and it begins to rot. And fester. And people use me to clean up their own little messes. Their own hangs up. i am a hard. The way sponges get all hard and tend to be retentive with their collected gunk. And you can bang them on the sink counter and it seems like you didn’t dent them at all. Seems.

But just like a sponge, when water is poured over me, i loosen up. i become soft and more able to collect things: Cristal and Ebola alike.

In this state, be it poured over by liquor, Pharmaceuticals, lust, tenderness, the smell of cholrine, the sound of my friends voices, or a good book: in this state i am like the sponge because my hard edges gave way to suppleness. Everything bad i collected is washed out and replaced. i can physically feel the tension leave me, and i smile more.

And i dry up again, but i feel comfort in the fact that i can do it again. Just by calling up a friend, i can find myself again.

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And sometimes i sit around and i think of things i wish we could have done. Road trips. Sipping drinks by the pool: Light Sun, warm water, stiff drinks, us. Watching Law&Order: a couch, my head in his lap, both of us eating Otter Pops. Eating at a fancy restaurant: feeling good and drinking good wine. This is a rare occurance. Then there’s those times when i see a kid and i think that is what our kid would look like. Just Like Molly from the movie Annie. Just like her.( Bottom Left Corner) Then there are those times, like right now, when i am okay with not having any of these things because the stupid, petty things we do have are good enough.

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And sometimes i call Deanna, and she’s not home, but i am pretty sure we communicated over brain waves and air waves and heart beats, and i miss her so much, but my soul walks in front of her making sure i take the brunt of any storm that tries to stop her on her way.

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And then there are five hours in Kon Tiki when i am actually thankful i am alive.

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Thank you people. For letting me open my pores — because even with all the festering toxic stuff i keep inside, there is YOU, and that makes opening up worth the pain.