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anne: ugh. you make eye contact with a guy for two
seconds on the metro and he gets totally skeevy.
me: how come guys never get skeevy with me on the metro?
anne: what is that all over your lip? is that chocolate?
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I'm sitting in class and I can see out the window. The professor's voice blends with the other noises in this building, the shuffles and creaks and thousands of other stifled classroom sounds, and suddenly I notice a woman doing one of those trendy Asian exercise routines- Tai Chi?- outside, five stories down, in the garden. Her hands move in slow circles clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise again. One leg moves out, the other follows. I can only see her back. Her hair is dark.
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The professor is still talking, and I watch her hands. The gestures she makes remind me so much of my old sociology professor. I took his class on death once, and he would wave his hands in agitated semicircles just as she did now. What is the opposite of Life? he would demand, and then shout, Nothing! Death is not the opposite of Life. Death is life. We would all nod and check our text messages under our desks.
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The opposite of Life is nothing. I lace my fingers together and I can feel my pulse pushing them apart. If I sit very still, bracing myself against the hard edge of my desk, I can sense my body swaying slightly with the force of my blood moving through it. And I think, I am existing with or without my will. I'm not sure how this has escaped my notice for so long.
I'm sitting in class and I can see out the window. The professor's voice blends with the other noises in this building, the shuffles and creaks and thousands of other stifled classroom sounds, and suddenly I notice a woman doing one of those trendy Asian exercise routines- Tai Chi?- outside, five stories down, in the garden. Her hands move in slow circles clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise again. One leg moves out, the other follows. I can only see her back. Her hair is dark.
-
The professor is still talking, and I watch her hands. The gestures she makes remind me so much of my old sociology professor. I took his class on death once, and he would wave his hands in agitated semicircles just as she did now. What is the opposite of Life? he would demand, and then shout, Nothing! Death is not the opposite of Life. Death is life. We would all nod and check our text messages under our desks.
-
The opposite of Life is nothing. I lace my fingers together and I can feel my pulse pushing them apart. If I sit very still, bracing myself against the hard edge of my desk, I can sense my body swaying slightly with the force of my blood moving through it. And I think, I am existing with or without my will. I'm not sure how this has escaped my notice for so long.
