looking for the plot. testing out new ways to write. the neighbor kid, maybe both my nephews' age, got out on their roof today. i remember that phase. wanting to get out, but still be connected. who am i kidding? i am still in that phase. let me wander but tie me down. keep me close but let me rebel. only now without parents around. plot is taught to me in buddhism to be useless, a contrived chunk of attachment used as motivation by the ego. yes. just that passive. and yet it is so attractive. so sharp. like a photograph of snow. or the edge of the roof. tantalizing in its edginess. even as i still cling to the house. after all it is not as dramatic as all that. i would sneak out of my window and onto the same dreamy ledge as a teen and that is where i plotted to go to europe when the bay area was vetoed by the empress in current rule. now, i can climb out anytime i want. and so can he.
i wanted that freedom so badly. i might have done what you did, with similar results, but then my mother died. that threw off a lot. or anyway, i give it credit for the "fact that i am still in wisconsin". which feels like a bad thing, conceptually, though i quite like my life here.
ReplyDeletepatience as a cousin. funny. culturally, i think of cousins as being farther away than you do, i think.
: )