Just checking my hair. No apparent reason, just throwing a passing glance in the mirror on my way to turn on the shower, and saw some little blemish on my face. Closer inspection revealed nothing of consequence. But then i looked closer in the looking glass…(Alice never had a trip like that through the looking glass) closer…until i could see the pores on my skin, touch the bags under my eyes and saw how loose the skin was….my skin had become loose somewhere along the way. Not the skin of my 20’s,or even 30’s, but the skin of someone growing older… someone who could hear the mortal ticking of the clock…The puffy skin of my eyes was tight enough… if i got rid of the puffiness, it would just be another patch of loose skin.
Then i started wishing i was not 41. that i could invert the age or something But that would make me 14, and i’m not sure i’d want to be 14 again. When i was 14, I lived in a big blue split level house in the country, and the windows in my room were ground level. There, i used to spend hours writing in my journal, and playing with my Johnny West collection, and hiding in a cubbyhole under the stairs, the entrance of which was under the shelf that served as a desk in my room. That was like my little sanctuary.
I have forgotten most of the details of that time in my childhood. Various therapists over the years have been convinced I’m blocking some trauma; some child abuse. My parents were way too apathetic to be abusive. Theirs was a sin of omission.
Maybe what i was blocking was that i was an abductee. I have that photo to prove there was opportunity…maybe I was TAKEN. Maybe i could get those aliens to abduct me again, and forego the anal probe and just do a tummy tuck to tighten all this loose skin i have.
I watch the skies, ever hopeful.