Clear.

THE DATE:jULY 2nD 2oo7
THE TIME:elevenish
THE MUSIC:warning sign; coldplay
THE MOMENT:

A searching night.

Cooler than most.

Quietly compelling.

Running down a central road in my town, I thought I saw a firefly, and knew I had to find it. -I realize now that I mostly just hoped there was a way that fireflies could still mean the same thing to me as they did two summers ago.-

I tried to keep it in sight, noticing that its glow was un-naturally stationary and rhythmless. The shine belonged to something else. I reached its light and dug through the grass only to find the reflecting remnants of a small orange flag: “CAUTION: CABLE BURIED.” And I thought: “How ironic, I already knew.” Though I was very aware of all my electricity beneath the surface, I pushed forward with a recklessness, running in and out of streetlights against a pulsing weakness.

I turned down an unfamiliar road, goodbye songs blaring in my ears, sloping downhill and yet knowing I was progressing. I saw my sprinting shadow in the tall grass along side me and knew there was not one molecule inside me that was not absolutely fluid. Still, I could not escape myself.

Reaching a stretch of blanketing darkness, I let go of my legs, laying myself down on the concrete. Surging with my own currents, I knew there was no way to be raw enough, to peel away my skin and leave the rhythm of my muddy footprints. In that moment, trapped in my own flesh, bounded by vocabulary, consent, and measurable time… I could find no way to express my core desire for release except to

violently,

repeatedly,

EXHALE.

I have spent my summer, fumbling for sparks.