Archive for July, 2007

Adventure

Monday, July 30th, 2007

Already that moment has been cast in narrative, packed with meanings I spouted spontaneously. I walked a straight road from Crystal Palace to Beckenham, tasting the rain and wondering why I drink anything else. Each car seemed to hesitate as it passed, considering offering rescue. But I refused even the rescue offered by telephone, denying my discomfort, needing to create a meaning that wasn’t negative.

These long walks are my adventures, rare pockets of pride in my memory. I will tell this story again, packing in new meanings, inventing new thoughts; but I will never forget the taste of rain.

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God II

Monday, July 16th, 2007

Bored at the weekend, my best friend and I decided to have a look inside the local Methodist Church. We were 10, and it was only the second time I had been to church (the first being my baptism). We did not even get through the door.

We went to the back entrance, round an overgrown, narrow corner of the church. I almost peered through the window before screaming: “God’s in there!” We ran away, terrified of whatever was in the church. My friend said she had seen a ghost that resembled the marshmallow man in Ghostbusters.

Was it God?

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God I

Monday, July 16th, 2007

My first big experience of God was at the age of 5. Alone in my bedroom at night, I sat up in bed and looked out of the window at my dark back garden and the moon above it. I realised that one day, and probably in only 60 or 70 years, I would die. I believed in God, but as a child feared Him so much that the thought of my future death filled me with utter terror. I sobbed and clasped my hands in prayer, begging the moon (where I though God was) to let me live forever.

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“Lost in the Supermarket”

Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007

I wasn’t part of a scene when I was younger. I just listened to whatever music they pumped into the stores that I wasted my time in, as I endlessly browsed the shelves I already knew the contents of. Most of the music was as vacuous as the wasted time, but occasionally I’d hear something that made me feel less disconnected, something I’d carry with me for weeks, waiting and aching for the next time I’d hear it. I used to think love was like that; that it would float into my life as simply, as unexpectedly, as unasked for.

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