16 05 2007
trajectory of ascension
“I’m in a trajectory of ascension,” he said, not looking me in the eyes as he slowly set down his glass.
I watched him, his shoulder, his nose, I saw a faint smile pulse through his lips as if he were really pleased about such a stupid sentence, or as if he had just farted.
Next to us there were some public defenders who had just come in from the courthouse. They had loosed their ties and while waiting for their drinks were arguing very loudly about a case or a trial or how someone fucked up.
“I’m getting better,” he finally explained. “At being myself. At figuring out why being me was so different from what I thought it was supposed to be.”
“What did you think it was supposed to be like?” I asked, curious. “Being you is being you, there isn’t really any conscious decision or feeling there.”
“Exactly what I’m saying, there is.”