in central park....
inhaling the humidity...
through 'bloated' nostrils.....:}
breathing in the fumes from the buses.....
feeling new york....
this had never really felt like home to Missy...
all the cars and people and deadlines and hypocrisy...
she longed for blue ocean.....
and for that kind of SILENCE where
"sound can be distinguished from interruption...."
nonetheless..
HERE SHE WAS.....
another summer in exile.....
away from the sand.....
far away from the water....
the urban swimming pool could not really capture the ESSENCE of Missy....
in her glory...
it was but a small, turquoise rectangle,
filled with urine and chlorine and pieces of diapers....
HARDLY AN OASIS....
she would head for the shore......
as soon as she had seen to
ALL OF THOSE 'heady' RESPONSIBILITIES......
she would look for an umbrella to sit under....
while stirring the Mai Thai IN HAND......:}}
with that candy-striped, straw of //////concession////////.......
the motorcycle with the energy-efficient exhaust....
would come in handy tonight !!
and away she would FLY.......
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from somewhere wayyy above the 'starlight kingdom'....... comes a fairy.......with wings........ a delectable, fantabulous 'p... -
What makes a traumatic situation real and not somehow sensationalized or exaggerated ? What constitutes real trauma ? Is it all relative ? I...