Flux

My 10th grade (spring sememster) english teacher (Mrs. Jill Sullivan) said, all writers are trying to pin down flux. the state of change the world is in (and always will be).

I can't say I disagree. I see Pocahontus jabbing her tree-branch staff into the river, singing you can't touch the same river twice. That is flux. At the bottom of her staff perhaps a molecule of water got stuck between and wood and the river bed before squirming its way towards the future. Pocahontus didnt pin much of any thing down.

I am between things, but still very much here. I am thinking about how to change my blog once I move to Indiana, (the name will stay the same). I am thinking about shower curtains. And future friends. But I am still very much here. Los Angeles very much my muse. I find it hard not to be present focused when the present is ever startling.

Today, instead of biking to work, I took the bus. Yes. 2 sights I saw.

1) In the Morning. An older Asian woman SINGING outloud, not in english. She waves to the older black man walking behind her, rather coyly. By the time she gets to the corner, he is with her, holding her hand. At the gas station she sits down on the curb, he continues walking. He is wearing a hat.

2) A very LARGE black woman gets on the bus. I am but a thigh. I am wondering what it is like to be her. The world too small, but her pants fit her. When she exits the bus, with many excuse me's, she is with her son (?). A grown man, he tenderly attends to her shirt, pulling it carefully over her large backside. It is a habit. It is love.