The Beginning Thralls of Snow White Destiny
Christmas bulbs were hung with care last night, the baby and I gathered ’round the tree, discussing the significance behind each and every ornament, and the implications of such memories. A spirit is invoked in me at this time, I can feel the crisp hello of the holiday season as it has finally and officially wrapped itself up around me, I anticipate going into downtown Pittsburgh to look at giant toy train exhibits or ice skating in PPG square. Smoking with gloves on and shivering over conversations with co-workers. I dropped a bulb last night, glass and ancient, one of my great-grandmothers, one of four that were passed down to me by my mother, irreplaceable. Several culminating factors had led up to the big break, beginning with hanging ornaments that were given as gifts to my step-son, whom I had once been the only father he’d known, but now I don’t see anymore for reasons of my own, his and the natural progression of life, and placing those little dangling trains and stockings made me feel sad for things that aren’t likely to wind up in the lost and found bin, ready to be snatched up and returned home. Regardless, when the bulb finally busted, it was obvious and painful to me that while my life is driven by a constant need to keep changing, moving from house to house, city to city, all in constant upheaval, I am simultaneously one of the most sentimental and nostalgic people alive, so that my own actions are the cause of my typical unhappiness, and that if I would only allow myself to stay situated in one comfortable area for any amount of time, I would develop the bonds that I have come to miss about my past so much.
That’s very unlikely, however, as I’m keeping my eyes focused on Bike Across America 2005 and for me not to go is suicide for certain.
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