3:39 p.m. - Tuesday, Aug. 02, 2011
O beata Virgo . . .
On my way to Vermont. Stopped in New York off of Route 87 somewhere. Found a Panera instead of the rest stop . . .reliable internet and I can kill an hour undetected.
Changed my contact lenses in the bathroom, since they have been irritating me for weeks. As soon as I put the new ones in, it was like a revelation. I had forgotten how eyes are supposed to feel. Isn't that the way it is? We get used to pain. We forget we can have something different. Easily. Comfort. By letting go.
I thought I had been holding on to him so he wouldn't fall. I wanted him to come, too. And he was slipping. I thought that's all it was. But it wasn't. THAT'S the attachment. Not PA. Not the Monocacy. Not the star shining down from South Mountain. Not the people, places, and things. I have loved those things actively. In the moment. For the first time. It's the internal feeling. That's the attachment. Let me feel stuck a little longer . . .I know how to feel that. I know how to do that.
But maybe it IS just that easy. To discard an old pair of contact lenses. To just take them out and throw them away.
Can you wake up today, and be new? Be here, without that old shit that brought you here? Just live in this day and love this day and feel this day - and fuck everything else?
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