January 27th, 2005

catie_cute

Rabbit Hole

I woke up this morning with the itch to be going somewhere fast. The kind of need that propels you out of bed, makes you do fifty situps before you've even gotten dressed. What, you've never had that itch? Huffing out breath and watching the stars glimmer though a crystalline ceiling? Can't bother to shower because the morning might be over by the time you hit the stairs to get out of the house? The feeling that life is so big that you have to hit it at a dead run, so that even if you crash and burn at least you're going to be spreading your atoms out all over the place, so you get to experience even that last moment all the way down to the core of your being?

I have days like that all the time. I haven't been able to breathe properly since I got up: the air is too thick and I'm too slow, but if I don't stop, if I don't stop pushing my way forward, I'll make it through. I'm looking outside now, to choose a direction to point myself in--

And the stairs are made of light today, and my castle's in the air.


(Brought to you courtesy of the First Annual LJ Rabbit Hole Day.)
catie_cute

Rabbit Hole

I met a boy while I was running down the stairs, but when I stopped to talk to him, he grew golden wings of wax and flew away toward the cold bright sun. I watched until I couldn't see him anymore, and he never fell, so maybe he was more than angel and less than a boy, or something that's the next best thing.

There's desert all around, and there's frost upon the trees. The road in front of me is shimmering in the heat, and I'm not sure it goes beyond that first mirage. But there's a silver-blue low-rider with its engine gunning and I think that it's waiting for me.
catie_cute

Rabbit Hole

The world didn't end until the third mirage.

By that time I was going like a bat out of hell, hot wind and sand burning my eyes til I could barely see. Stole my breath away about a hundred miles back, but who needs to breathe when you can fly? I hit the edge of the world at a million miles an hour, and let the bike go. Watched it tumble tumble tumble, wheels over teakettle, down a rabbit hole big as the sky. And I began to fall after it.

And who needs to fear when you're free falling through every moment of your life like it's branded on your skin. That's all you've got to do, spread your arms and throw your head back to the sky and let the sun beat down on you, tattoo you with every second of life that you've got.

And then an Icarus boy soared up out of the blue and caught me, his wings all fresh and cool, and I'm not one for angels, but I've got one with me now.