I Feel Like the Color Brown

Be honest but gentle. I haven't written in a while.

Life is funny. Not in the “haha” sort of way, just in the “it’s-peculiar-how-everything-works-out” sort of way. One night we are lying in bed next to someone, warm, comfortable, thinking of black tuxedos and white dresses and the next we’re restless, giving up on sleep, and trying to figure out which sad movie to watch so we have an excuse to cry outside of the broken mess of our lives.

 

I’m currently sitting in a coffee shop breathing in the Brazilian nut aroma, watching two people share a piece of cake, a middle-aged man staring at a computer screen (probably reading e-mails from work trying to forget his divorce and estranged kids), and out the window I see a couple of teenagers- one of them is wearing two shoes which I could swear don’t match and the other two are lounging so far back in their chairs I’m making bets with myself as to when they will fall over.

 

Metaphors: they’re all around us. Like the teens in their tipping chairs and the bets we make for when it will all come crashing down, when all the s**t will hit the fan. But, there are some things we do not anticipate.  It’s funny how things don’t work out. One night we’re laughing, telling our most embarrassing moments, sharing a piece of cake and then the next night we’re sitting on the floor of our bedroom staring out the window, hearing a bird chirp, and wondering what kind of bird is up so late, in the dark, trying to make music for a audience that will never appreciate it.

 

I’m currently sitting in a coffee shop taking in the artwork on the walls, listening to the bad music they are playing, watching the girl behind the counter watch the clock waiting for closing time and listening to the two people eating cake talk about kidney transplants.

 

Transplants: we do it with everything now. Take out one organ, put in another. Take out one boyfriend, replace him with another guy. Take our sad tears and replace them with tears of laughter-the kind of laughter that has you rolling on the ground, almost sick with happiness, clutching yourself. Life is funny. When you laugh really hard, people call it being ‘in stitches’. I never saw the humor in it; stitches always seemed like a serious matter to me, a painful matter, in fact. One minute we’re laughing, the next we’re crying, then back and forth, swaying and ebbing and we call it life.

 

I’m currently sitting in a coffee shop thinking of the human body. It’s miraculous. It’s interesting. It’s uniquely designed to carry us through life and let us experience the world through sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell.

 

The body: it has its own memory filled with plugged-up senses. The nose can’t get rid of the smell of a man coming fresh and clean from a shower. The skin can’t help but feel wet. The lips, they like to remember the taste of a man in a towel, drying himself and writing I love you in the fog on the mirrors. The fog fades and the words fade and the feelings fade. The steam escapes the bathroom and the whole house feels humid. The towel replaces itself on the hook because everything has a place, a place for everything. Puddles evaporate and the foot prints in the rugs disappear, but the body has its own memory filled with salty tears and empty arms and a heart that pounds against a rib cage that has the rib of Adam in it. The heart is so predictable- Atria, ventricles, the Semi lunar valve closes and the atrioventricular valve opens (lub-dub)- and blood goes pouring through the body. What an organ, what a stupid, naïve organ; It beats and it throbs all by itself.

 

It keeps going without fail, even if the body bleeds. It continues, from one moment to the next.

Author's Note

05.26.09

Reviews

[Ron Reardon]

Why is pain so easy to write about? I dont know. Maybe a broken heart is the strongest pain our mind can deal with. The body can deal with much, the mind, not so. Well written, and tells more about you and how you can express yourself than anything else I have read of yours, so far that is. I am so far from NOT done!

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

I must say you have some intriguing thoughts... it sounds a lot like me in how when I am out especially at a coffee shop I love to watch other people a figure them out... Your part bout the stitches is funny and I never thought of it that way but you are correct. I have often thought bout many sayings we use in america that really make no sense when you think but them but we continue to say them. The transplant part was also so funny cause it is true... in the scheme of things love is like a vital organ so transplants is a fitting way to describe it... anyways so not to bore you I shall end this... thanks for sharing your thoughts for you give the reader plenty to think about.

[Flo_writer]

Not really sure why this is titled "I feel like the color brown" but I enjoyed reading it. I feel each section had a different thought and carried the same mood. My thoughts on this can be said in two words. Different and Unique. Well done.

[writer12]

This piece has a lot of really good lines.
My favorite was about the heart and how it is, "What an organ, what a stupid, na�ve organ..."
You have an interesting formula/pattern to this piece, but I think, like Davidryan said, that you can play around with it a bit to make it feel less like random thoughts on paper (which might have been all you were going for).
Overall, well done! Keep up the great writing!

[DavidRyan]

Dear. You know I have a tremendous amount of respect for you, and this writing didn't change my mind at all. It's an interesting story. And interesting idea. And really well written. Nothing is more fun to write than people you're just viewing from your chair, or car, or wherever. If you watch someone long enough, they will write your story for you, just by their actions and the reactions that they cause. In paragraph two you said, "I'm currently sitting in a coffee shop...." and then in paragraph four, you said, "I'm currently sitting in a coffee shop......" I think if I was going to do that, I'd either get rid of the second one, just because it's redundant, or I would add another "I'm currently sitting in the coffee shop...." at the very end, and wrap everything about the story up within that paragraph. Just a thought. Either subtract or say it so many times that it becomes a theme. In paragraph three, you start a sentence with "but" which I don't think is a problem. I think it's stupid to say you can't start a sentence with a certain word, but just the way it reads I might change it to "There are always those things we don't anticipate though"...or something like that. I don't know, just a thought. Also, paragraph two ends with you saying how the kids are tipping in their chairs and you're making bets with yourself as to when they will fall, but then you say it again immediately in paragraph three. I don't think you need it the second time just because it's still fresh in the reader's mind. So you can say something like "Metaphors: they're all around us. Like these kids represent how everything is on the brink of completely crashing down ; when all the s**t will hit the fan." I don't know. Take it or leave it. Either way, you're a brilliant writer and you have a great talent and I love reading your stuff. Glad I know ya, dear.