Wrinkle

lil journal entry from a few months ago + drawing I made a while back. they feel connected somehow

I’ve been noticing that wrinkle on my forehead, just like my moms. Formed from muscles contracting and scrunching the skin of my face, long enough that it no longer knows how to ease back into place. A crease between my eyebrows to remind me of that confused dissatisfaction. A deep focus on the details, the particles floating in the water as ripples careen over top. Silently calculating when they meet, but falling short of any extractable conclusion. One arm outstretched, hoping for some answer to fall from the sky, like manna from heaven straight into the palm of my hand. But when the occasional rain drop falls, it just dissolves on my skin, or slips through my fingers back into the body of water below.

I jumped in that water yesterday. I stripped to my underwear and I stood on the docks edge, shivering above the dark murky water; infinitely deep in my boundless imagination. So many possibilities of what would meet me under the surface… I remembered hearing stories of people sadistically dumping dangerous animals in lakes, but I tried my best not to let those thoughts gain power over me. Because for some reason I couldn’t quite make out in the fog, the water was calling me in. As I wrestled my thoughts I caught a reflection in the water that stopped me dead in my tracks: A cloud in the shape of a skull floating above me in the sky… but no crossbones (phew). Something told me it was a good omen, so I counted to three, and jumped. The murky water enveloped every inch of my body, and the cold seeped to my core instantly. I seized. I sensed the darkness expanding around me and I could picture the skull hanging overhead, laughing sinisterly as I met my demise.. it was terrifying. I wish I could say I had some kind of epiphany in there, flailing frantically in the water, but I didn’t. I found my breath, and got out as quick as I got in. I expected to find some sense of power drenched in the unknown, but I came out empty handed, save for swimmers itch and some pond scum. All this time spent evaluating and wondering; craving and aching to get back, it can feel like time wasted; But maybe moments like I had at the lake are just parts of a lifelong lesson teaching me to let go, let go, and let go again. I guess theres nothing so wrong with a curious animal, sitting cross legged on the dockside, conversing with the muddy waters, as long as he’s not set on timely answers, or anything in return at all.