Thursday, March 14, 2019
lifes little traffic lights :: essays research papers
Lifes Little commerce LightsI love it, life is so crazy. Ive always say if it isnt going to bother me in three to five years, past Im not going to worry about it now, accordingly I come across what I like to refer to as a traffic light you know, those little situations and clanks that make you limp and think back about a time and place that you left behind so long ago, abstruse in the folds of your memory, and the sudden slap of reality that makes you stop and look around and think whats different?, whats changed?, and what thoroughfare has brought me here? You see a traffic light is like a memory, better than a picture, its a feeling you get deep inside. A sudden sense of knowing exactly who you are and why, a lot times all in the depths of a single moment. Still complex? Heres an exampleIts a fairly smart day in January of 2002, brisk enough to turn my flesh roughly purple in spots where Im scarred or bruised, I walk into the dry cleaners after a luxuriousbrick work day, to pick up the pants that have been sitting at that place for about three weeks (I come out to have the memory of a gold fish and the attention span of a fruit fly). Of course Im in a big damn hurry stock-still though I have no where in particular to be and nothing in my near future has been marked urgent (its just the sense of urgency that makes whatever it is that Im doing seem so much more important than what it authentically is) I encounter a motherly looking middle-aged Native American woman, who in just a smile seems kind and warm enough to tweak me from myself and set me back into the reality of my objective. She doesnt know it but shes about to take me for my last $15, but damn I really want to wear those pants tonight. She looks up as she hands me my recognise and very politely asks me with a wonderful note of concern in her voice your nose it looks bruised, did something happen to it?, having heard this question what seems like a thousand times during the wint er months, I give her my standard answer, oh, yes I broke it a couple of years ago, and the mark always shows when its moth-eaten outside wont it ever go away?
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