mortal // immortal

but i keep slipping back bc this pull feels like the gravitation of the full moon - i am the hapless sea that cannot hold itself together, the currents which cannot exert control over themselves - currents which crash against the shore but roll back into their own muck & subsequently carry themselves out to sea again

my will is like a loose polyester shower cap - it sees itself as superior to its plastic, flimsy counterparts: of which (it perceives) their roles as merely perfunctory.  

it is ambitious, proud - maybe even boastful, 

but it perpetually forgets its inherent weakness - try as it might, it can never wrap itself tightly around the head, & must, in turn, sacrifice a few locks of dry hair 

to be marred & pelted by the overhead shower. 

it is the perpetrator of soaked hair & headaches;

the lingering, nagging perturbation that keeps one awake at night, 

with eyes agape & concentrated on occasional light beams that dance on the ceiling;

or the nebulous flashbacks - of things that are merely dreamt of in the head.  

how tragic it is then, 

that i can change a deficient showercap -  

but try as i might,  i cannot change my defective will.

i used to beat myself up inside about my lack of propensity, or rather inability, to let go of my treacliness // my wanting // ideas 

but today i had this small epiphany (you know that moment when two fortuitous thoughts drift into your head & you attempt to draw a bridge between them & out of sheer luck, the bridge doesn't fall) about something i had read from housekeeping (by marilynne robinson) (thank you bunny j for recommending it was/is a really good read) a few days before & trying to suppress my inclination towards sth that i long thought i had gave proper burial to 

this made me understand why that inclination can be buried & still rise up from the dead - it is as robinson so acutely puts it, an "angel" - immortal, timeless & even to some extent, attractive.

& so the angel defeats the grave, transfigures before our very sight, "smooths our hair, and brings us wild strawberries".

(p.s: thank you jj for telling - no, in fact writing to me that my words have some weight in them)