interstellar ⸺ misc

a blurb undervaluing family (iii)

2021.04.05

so it's 6:30 pm, save a few seconds more or less, and the pattern of this table is getting quite awful for a fixture which passed national standard. 

i look up for a while, and the man across from me is choking, face scrunched and shredded with aged discomfort. i avert my eyes. i dont know the man in this moment, not anymore. the sight is utterly repulsive, and i cant fathom the thought of ever having to handle such a hideous human being. they say that family is the closest tie that a human being may have-- yet, i've never found the melody of that sort of belltone to ring true, the chime sounding dismal and false to my ear, ringing tepidly into one ear and out the other, splitting into staves and bungled in its bars. 

no, please-- i hope that you understand. i hope that you know, just know, that family is green lawns and fields of neat daisies, white picket fences and barbeque parties on the fourth of july, sticky hands with candy and skips down the cobblestones of disneyland, and summer trips down at the beach. family is all shared laughter and jesting teases, hushed whispers and soft smiles in the dark, and fingers entwined beneath blankets at christmastime. it's a very enveloping, embracing sort of feeling-- almost inescapably universal in its nature, no matter the individual it confronts. if i sit here for long enough, back hunched over and shoulders thrown to the front, maybe i can remember the foggy corners of a memory, the feeling of sunshine at dawn and softened mellow-colored clothes, piggyback rides on a father whose face i wish to forget. 

no, please. i dont have a family. id rather have my memories, these cursed, awful works of wreck. if you would so allow me.