Friday, May 30, 2014

Westward Ho

La Brea and Melrose, Los Angeles
May 2014


On the way to my 17th IEP this morning, my eyes leaked tears and I swore to myself as I wiped them away. I won't bore you with the litany of complaints that preceded the tears, many of which are valid and most of which are pathetic, but at La Brea and Melrose, I got into the left turn lane behind a long line of cars and asked for help -- not from God, per se, although I still have vestiges of duty toward that possibility, but rather from the air, the universe, the divine, the whatever. I turned my head to my left and saw what you see above, felt an enormous slap upside the head as they say in the south. Yes, I took that photo while sitting in my car, my head smarting from the force of the blow, waiting through a few red lights, inching along, stripped of impatience, anger, sorrow and panic. Even tears, or tears, even.

That's all I've got for today. The IEP went just fine. When I came home, I lay down on my bed, closed my eyes, thought of other things.

8 comments:

  1. Thanks for that slap upside my head. Still, sometimes tears are a good and righteous option, and hopefully, a release. Hugs, friend.

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  2. Something that a guy in Cozumel told me was that no matter how poor you are, you can always find a place to boil a pot of beans.
    That may be true in Mexico. Not necessarily here.
    Damn.
    Don't hit yourself any more. Kiss your hands instead. I do that sometimes. I don't know why but it helps to remind me to be gentle towards myself.

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  3. Dearest Elizabeth,

    I am only one tiny cog in this enormous wheel of people who read you and the smaller wheel of those who comment.

    I want you to know that even though I haven't been commenting much lately (due to what feels like the overwhelming - and probably not - complexity of my own life) I read every post and I cry or laugh right along with you. I never even think of validity because I care for you so much and your feelings matter to me, no matter what else is happening around you.

    And I clutched my heart this morning for that man too... as he laid in the doorway of a shop here in Portland on my way to get coffee.

    Your friend, Liv.

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  4. For what it's worth, that's a great photo.

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  5. jesus. all i could see was that ridiculously sexist "westward ho" poster. i had to look again to see the poor man on the sidewalk. fuck this country sometimes.

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  6. Oh shit. That picture. Shit shit shit.

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  7. Even when we have it bad, we glance to the side and have it good. That photo - Oh God, the heartbreak.

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