A funny thing happens when you’re browsing your twitter feed. While watching the brownie batter you spent something like way too long trying to get it to the right consistency, drip out into the baking paper, as it rises in the oven everyone said was overkill.
You giggle at the anecdotes, the way everyone else describes events unfolding. Sometimes there’s a willful level of insanity in the brevity the feed inspires, or possibly hidden base instincts.
Regardless I keep scrolling, never stopping to really think. The posts that whiz by as I judge by the pictures of the ones can speed read right through. As though I willfully enjoy relegating peoples thoughts to data points. I suppose its all the same.
But when I stop and read and click on the links, the feed seems so much smaller. The single unified entity is no longer anything I assume to care about, its not mine its just a mishmash of too many ideas flowing faster than anyone can feasibly keep up. So even the ones I stop at I just browse, no need to invest in the words of others
But then there was you, your face damming the feed faster than beavers looking for some reasonable food. At the very hint of your visage things stop and I have to choose, do I think myself out of this or do I let go and just miss you. Thoughts beguiled by the decision they must make usually just let’s it scroll, missing you would require remembering you and sometimes sometimes remembering is too easy overall.
I run down the words as they stream down the screen, reading like this is great speed reading practice, maybe I should do it some more. Like paddling down the river that one time, forgetting to mention you can’t swim, hoping death wouldn’t come, but the things I had to learn rapidly, they’d never fade. As the rocks they exploded from beneath reminding me to keep the faith.
But then you show up again, as if you know somethings reminded me of you. I try to scroll on but I can’t I’m stuck between a rapper sampling cats and comedians proposing to pizzas. You, you hang there like the end of a journey that never really existed. Syphoning my thoughts to stopping the memories from flooding back, blinding me while these brownies rise from their molten primordial sugar puddle.
I just want to write you a song, a sonnet, or even a hymn, just to remind you you’re not alone. No matter what you say to me, no matter how much I try to ignore the stream of your thoughts in the world, I don’t want to stay quiet anymore at least to these words. The only ones I can really speak to, because their conjecture is not to assume an ulterior motive. At least until I tell them to.
I want to give you, all that I can. Guarantees and promises I can’t, cause no ones kept there’s. I wish not to make you hope, I wish to remind you that there is love. Love not the way I do love you, but of life and the little things we ignore while trying to think our way out of things. Like streams of familiar faces, telling us how they feel.
All this in the moment I see your face, while randomly checking on the brownies. They’re almost done now, its primordial corpse rising from the tray, the excessive butter clearly visible. I just want to send this picture, of brownies coming to life. But I won’t cause I’ve stopped caring about how they look.
I’ve stopped caring that they’re going to need to frozen then re-baked. I stopped caring that I’ve been leaning against the counter top for something like longer than I care to remember. I’m staring at my phone, trying to remember, why I relegated myself to just music friend on the other side of the world. Why I let everything convince me, that anything ever done was a mistake.
I could go on but these brownies need tending to, I’ll let the knife cut them down to smaller bits. Maybe I can share some too.