I ask my hands to rewrite something that doesn’t make sense in my head. I give them leeway, hovering them over blank keys and waiting for them to click. I give them autonomy, and I say go and please make sense of all of these things. I keep my head low and I let my fingers go and eventually there is something here from a place that I didn’t think to look very hard at.
I saw a man at a new years eve party all by himself. he was wearing a long black coat and he had a white scarf. He reminded me of a washed-up movie star and he had sad eyes, and he asked me and my friends if we’d like him to buy us drinks.
I wondered what kind of person came to a place like this alone on new years eve and decides to dance by themselves, and I couldn’t decide if I should applaud him or pity him, and I think I did a little bit of both.
I think about him when I’m letting my hands fly tonight, talking to myself without words and finding wholly acceptable because somewhere out there-there are people who would make it so I wouldn’t have to go to a party alone.
But we all are, alone in our own way and swimming in an upward current towards a destination that is just outside of view, like driving in a heavy fog. And maybe this guy has it right, and we’re just not paying attention.