Apathy

I took the bus two stops too far so I had three extra blocks to think. The wind isn't bothering me. I can't stop listening to this song, it's not poignant, maybe it's just relevant. Maybe it's the way he sings it, be here now. Maybe I just wish I could be everywhere. I feel kind of smacked across the ass. Flipped upside down or whatever. Some kind of cliche no doubt. Some kind of hackneyed slap. When I was 19 I tried to save a dog in the highway, I pulled my car into the median and I was chasing it across the lanes, on my knees in the grass, and I spent an hour trying to get it to come to me, find its collar and call someone, tell them their dog was missing. And people were honking, and the dog was barking at me, showing its teeth and snarling at me, and my mom told me Katy, you can't save the world. You are not a superhero, you need to let the dog go, it'll find its way home, and if it's dead in the road, you're not the one who killed it. This Irish man told me today that people always forget to put humor in their writing, that he sees these kids laughing with each other, and then when they sit down to write they talk like they are men in their forties grieving their youth. And when I write about ghosts, I never think that maybe they'll make good company one day, a few holes in my cushions, and thumbprints on my walls.