Tuesday, March 02, 2010

But still

Here I am a few floors above Market Street, staring outside and thinking about what it feels like in my body now, I mean what it feels like to feel okay, calm, hopeful even, because that’s how I feel right now. In a few minutes I might crash, but I want to feel what this feels like. Is it something about my skin, the way the air fits underneath my clothes and then my fingertips ready to float? Maybe it’s my breath, like there’s more space here in my chest, more rise in the rise and fall. Or maybe it’s this feeling like I could close my eyes and fall right to sleep, or does that mean I’m crashing? Let’s stop thinking about it.

I might as well tell you that I’m at the gym, maybe a surprise because you thought I gave up after that first disastrous time swimming two laps or maybe it was one and then the next day, oh I don’t even want to tell you about the next day. Right after I felt calm like this, until the pain, which actually started right when I got home, that drill between my shoulder blades and then I was so exhausted I had to get back in bed.

Anyway, I’m still trying, still trying to get to a point where maybe I can exercise more. So I scheduled a few swimming lessons, now what I do mostly is float and kick a little and then I’m done in five or 10 minutes probably, although altogether it takes about two hours with leaving the house and getting there and taking a shower and sitting in the steam room to warm up and doing a few stretches and maybe waiting because sometimes all the lanes n the pool are full and then kind of swimming and then back to the steam room and the shower and the locker room and then upstairs above Market Street, eating in the lounge where sometimes people say and watch TV way too loud or drink cocktails, it seems kind of strange to me to get cocktails right after the gym but anyway I guess I’m the one who probably looks strange to them.

And then there’s the bus home, it’s only six blocks or so but of course I can’t walk with my bag so then I walk a block and check out what’s going on in the display windows of posh and not-quite-posh, over to the bus stop, sometimes I have to wait and sometimes it comes right away. Maybe I’m getting somewhere, I guess my back is hurting a little now, maybe it will get worse soon, I can feel myself getting tired again, my lips want to fold down like that child’s sadness that wraps around me these days whenever I’m still like that’s me, that’s me that child but still I feel more hopeful, even when my eyes start closing like anything is too much, the familiar exhaustion always overwhelming but still.

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