I force myself to write this down now; after weeks have passed I desperately pen the lines. Cigarette hangs from puckered lips, held erect when I take a drag, smoke in my eyes, only a little. I procrastinate and press onward, into the still shaken core of breadth, which I became.
I am still young and vital, deeply passionate and brooding sometimes. I thrive on connection, I desire the most from my interactions, and those who cannot comply take the next exit. I was always looking for some moment to make me more than I was, I knew I could feel more, expose more.
I desired the moments of nakedness, barren and stripped with eyes balanced in a state of judgment.
Sought by some who wished ultimate destruction on my still pounding heart, those who would touch the gold in my hair, with bruises in my brains. Faltering I sought some who might know what the path teaches, not only to swim, but to swim well. I wanted to see in their eyes knowledge beyond my own; I wanted to feel admiration and love.
...
In the daily machine I deliver productivity, I deliver the newness of industry. I seem to be eaten most of the time, feeling worn through and aching toward time. There may have been things occurring, life-like things, but I didn't notice for a very long time.
Working, I sit and watch people shuffle by me. I rearrange things, make phone calls, type and read. In mid-morning i am struck by something, by something that wasn't shuffling by. I saw a man, around the corner of the divider, leaning against the wall talking on his cell phone.
I looked several times, mostly because he wasn't going anywhere, secondly because he was completely unfamiliar to me. I watched as he pressed the phone to his left ear and nodded his head, tilting it occasionally and smirking a little. I took another phone call.
When I looked again he was still poised against the tan wall, though I caught his eye this time. He stopped while looking at me, and then quickly distracted by the voice on the phone he began to laugh. Slowly his eyes made it back in my direction, I blushed and turned back to my work.
...
As I pack my things nearing the end of the day I am overcome by this immense feeling of pressure, or what I could call "bigness." I turned to look behind me and here was the laughing man. He looked down at me and smiled, he started to chuckle and extended his right hand for a shake.
"I'm Magnus, thought I would introduce myself."
I stood up quickly, and grabbed his hand shaking it pulling it towards my stomach, "Miakoda, nice to meet you."
"Nice for me too, Mia. Are you going right home?"