2004-10-25 - 3:14 p.m. Falling She looked too small to be alive. I know that sounds strange, but it was just that I don�t understand how she could have tiny lungs and a tiny heart, and be alive. I suppose that a bigger man than me would have a bigger heart, so I guess size doesn�t matter. But wouldn�t you suspect that they might have to breathe faster. I guess its proportional. But don�t you think that she would have been dropped. Kids can be so mean, and I myself have been dropped in my life, on my big thick head. But as we grew tall like weeds, she stayed the same size, so the falls only got larger. I have never seen her in a cast. Why hasn�t she broken her arm yet? In High School when my brother would get so high and drunk, she not going to have a chance. How can she keep up with the giants around her. They will have to carry her. She will fall and die. That is how her life will end. Kids are too reckless for her. One simple slip and fall on the ice will be like falling out a window to her. I wear sunglasses in the winter because of the glare of the snow. It�s blinding. The Sun reflects like a mirror off the glaring ice. The snow is tricky. It can do so many bad things to you. Sometimes it melts, and is heavy and wet and can�t be moved. Sometimes it melts and freezes, causing you to slip. Sometimes it is not nearly as deep as you imagine, but it hides fallen and things on the lawn, like the rake from when you last went to mow the lawn. Today, it hid a rock. And it froze over that rock and on the sidewalk next to it. I am lucky because my sunglasses allow me to see the red blood on the snow from my fall. It looks beautiful. Head wounds don�t heel fast, and bleed wildly. They don�t hurt nearly as much as they should either. It�s the sort of thing I need to learn a lesson from. But it just leaves this beautiful red and white contrast, as a warm blood drips down my head, while the snow numbed the soreness. The jacket�s ruined for sure. But it made me think about her again. While she is small, she has less of a ways to fall. And the Ant I flicked in my hand can zing across the room, hit the wall, fall, and walk away unharmed. But I bleed, from just a small fall. God I hate February. I would give anything to be able to drive, though I imagine that with my luck, I would just slide off the road and crash into a tree, and bleed again. And then the car�s interior would be ruined with my blood. Lucky for me, my own blood doesn�t scare me. I can imagine it scaring most people, but not me. That�s not how I am going to die. | |||||||||||
