A boy walks alone at night in the summer heat. He is crying and singing "Here I Am Lord." He is full of inspiration, devotion, faith, innocence, loneliness, and confusion. He wants to do great things in this world but wants for direction.
A man gets home from work and makes a cocktail, then plays video games for 2 hours, enjoying another cocktail or two along the way. He is not overly stressed, thoughtful, lonely, or ashamed. He simply wants to give his brain some rest and enter a fantasy world crafted by others.
A boy realizes too late that he has feelings for a girl. She is blond and smiles a lot and is smart and seems to care for others. She seems to like him, but he isn’t paying attention. She will go on to form relationships in a seemingly continuous chain until finally marrying and mothering. He will go another 10 years before entering a real relationship.
A man patiently endures the verbal abuse of a maladjusted boy because he does have kindness and patience in his heart but also because it is his job to do so. The boy might feel that he doesn’t belong in the group home in which he’s found himself or that he’s been punished unfairly or that the man doesn’t really care and is only there for the money. The man knows this latter sentiment is ridiculous because the money is crap, but he understands the rest.
A boy is having a panic attack. His stomach hurts. He’s left the classroom to go to the bathroom multiple times already. He’s sweating. His heart is pounding. He forces himself to breathe deeply and count. He thinks of songs that contain the lyric, “everything is gonna be alright.” In this moment, there is nothing in particular he’s afraid of— only his own anxiety. It’s a vicious cycle, as they say, because his fear and anxiety cause each other.
A man goes to a therapist while attending grad school because it costs no money to do so and he’s been less happy than average with less sleep than average lately. He talks about his childhood with a stranger and cries in front of her. It is a strangely liberating experience just to talk about these things. Minimal advice is given. No drugs are prescribed. Meditation classes are suggested. But mostly the man just talks, the therapist listens, and it helps.
A boy attends the funeral of his grandfather. He cries a lot, especially when they sing "On Eagles Wings." His stomach hurts and he has to leave to find a bathroom in the middle of the service. It is his first real encounter with death and tragedy. What will the next family gathering be like without grandpa around? It all feels so sudden and overwhelming and unfair.
A man attends the funeral of his grandfather. He has become accustomed to the inevitability of this event for some time as he has watched his grandfather deteriorate over the last several years, not always recognizing each of his grandchildren as such. He handles things mostly stoically, hugging the right people at the right time, realizing that his role here is a supportive one. He does tear up when they play "Taps," slowly and sadly, on the trumpet.
A boy attends the wedding of his cousin. He does not know most of the people there, but he knows his other cousins, and they are all at a table together. It feels kind of awkward because they only see each other a couple times a year. Conversation moves in fits and starts. But the venue itself is rather large, and there are disposable cameras on all the tables. The boy finds great fun in becoming an impromptu wedding photographer, though few of his photos are of any of the major players in the wedding. He and another cousin mostly just photograph each other and explore the old building.
A man attends the wedding of a college friend. He does not know most of the people there, but everyone at his table is young and attractive, and it is great fun to be flirtatious and conversationally explore the lives of others. He drinks. He dances. Pictures are posted online. People “like” this.
A boy one rainy day decides to build little rivers within the sands of a muddy volleyball court. He finds great fulfillment connecting bodies of water, finding paths, feeling the mud between his fingers. On another day, he and a friend dam up a creak to see how effectively they can stop flow. The work is sweatier but still fulfilling, still challenging.
A man sits in an airport sometimes watching people go by, sometimes occupying himself with writing, sometimes trying to plan lessons to be taught at a later date, and sometimes simply tilting his head whilst pinching his sore eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He is wishing, not for the first time, that he wasn’t traveling alone.
A boy anticipates Christmas morning with joy in his heart. He wakes up excited and goes downstairs to find a pile of presents under the tree where yesterday was maybe one or two presents.
A man wakes up on Christmas mildly hungover and wonders whether his gifts will be enjoyed or whether he truly has little idea about the interests and desires of the people he loves.
A boy is horny as all hell. Everything turns him on: clothing catalogues, lotion commercials, someone giving him attention, the feeling of a blanket on his skin…
A man is tired as hell. New things start to make him happy: sleeping in past sunrise, having no plans for a whole Sunday, staff meetings being cancelled…
A boy wonders what will happen.
A man wonders what has happened.
No comments:
Post a Comment