As like years before, a handful of introductions were missed. The room was ransacked and the metal fold up chairs were strewn across the floor, covered in broken glass, rope, yarn, string, burnt papers, and some old sneaking suspicions that were never answered after inquiry. You're walking out of the room quite pleased you had missed that meeting. This is called a red herring...Two quandaries: a women with child who is enmeshed and can't empower herself. A man who was once married who can't seem to find grace in the prospect of not having the center of himself (HER) anymore. What to do when people tell themselves they're too old for play therapy? When their inner child becomes a cutter, a fan of false affections, ambivalent to healing, or simply bent on running away with gun/knapsack...Waiting on Toni and Angela today. *Paraphrase what Carmen said last week* The library is filled with the usual slinky Art Institute bandits. The rattle of colored pencils, the smell of fabreze on the emo boy's hoodie, the skinny jeans folded on top of air revolution remakes from 1987. This corner chair overlooks CRP periodicals which makes me wonder the whereabout of all these therapists. What became of them? Which ones found what they were looking for?...Envisage: the end of the afternoon. Fall. The L train (red) heading north toward Roger's Park *with Lake Michigan feeling particularly female on this day* riders exhibiting the following nuances: Apathy superimposed on listlessness superimposed on the prospect of all things resembling the word "perhaps." A free agent, let's say a maladjusted yet whimsical doppelganger of self. She (if you're a he)/He (if you're a she) teaches you a trick. Do you trust this person? Do you use the trick?...I'm now in a room filled with Yoko One art instructionals. It's spotless, the room and the wood floors. Three windows look out to downtown Chicago. The white on the walls and the absence of fold-up chairs makes me wonder if the introductions actually took place or if i'm yet to even be invited.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Pulling strings off from hanging dolls.
As like years before, a handful of introductions were missed. The room was ransacked and the metal fold up chairs were strewn across the floor, covered in broken glass, rope, yarn, string, burnt papers, and some old sneaking suspicions that were never answered after inquiry. You're walking out of the room quite pleased you had missed that meeting. This is called a red herring...Two quandaries: a women with child who is enmeshed and can't empower herself. A man who was once married who can't seem to find grace in the prospect of not having the center of himself (HER) anymore. What to do when people tell themselves they're too old for play therapy? When their inner child becomes a cutter, a fan of false affections, ambivalent to healing, or simply bent on running away with gun/knapsack...Waiting on Toni and Angela today. *Paraphrase what Carmen said last week* The library is filled with the usual slinky Art Institute bandits. The rattle of colored pencils, the smell of fabreze on the emo boy's hoodie, the skinny jeans folded on top of air revolution remakes from 1987. This corner chair overlooks CRP periodicals which makes me wonder the whereabout of all these therapists. What became of them? Which ones found what they were looking for?...Envisage: the end of the afternoon. Fall. The L train (red) heading north toward Roger's Park *with Lake Michigan feeling particularly female on this day* riders exhibiting the following nuances: Apathy superimposed on listlessness superimposed on the prospect of all things resembling the word "perhaps." A free agent, let's say a maladjusted yet whimsical doppelganger of self. She (if you're a he)/He (if you're a she) teaches you a trick. Do you trust this person? Do you use the trick?...I'm now in a room filled with Yoko One art instructionals. It's spotless, the room and the wood floors. Three windows look out to downtown Chicago. The white on the walls and the absence of fold-up chairs makes me wonder if the introductions actually took place or if i'm yet to even be invited.
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