I walked out in the cold today. Eyes lazy. Burning cause of my allergies. Dogs chain brushing against his collar. Night time. I don’t like looking at shadows that much, they make me dizzy. Something about the abnormal shape makes my head spin. And they’re so rigid. I smelled something. That ‘time of the year’ smell. It filled my soul with a plush, perfect painting. I like chimneys. Theres something so old about them. I used to look at christmas books with the oil santas drawn with his bushy jolly beard and cheeks. Snow scenario, red and green illuminating the tundras of decembers winter. There’s something so relaxing coming in from the cold, to a nice, warm inside, with nice warm cloth, cotton bedsheets wrapping around you. There’s something so perfect about the way it all makes me feel. The air even has a ring to it. Cars veering by on the veranda make a different noise, maybe because the air is colder. The rubber hits the pavement different. IT’s just that time of the year. The cold, dark tiny gusts of air brush against my face. My sinuses are a bit more clogged so everytime I breath I hear myself. This makes me feel closer to the earth. I feel vulnerable. I better rush in. The vivid pictures my mind slowly paints are ones I wish I could share with humanity. Cause it’s these moments where I think everything is absolutely perfect. I havent seen these images described in cinema, in books, anywhere really. I want to be the first to recreate it, somehow. My words, aren’t good enough. I can spend a day findingthe perfect exact words, only to fall short. It’s a hypnotic, leafy, perfect, intoxicating scent. When I use the word intoxicating, I mean it. It’s where all my five senses combine to create this perfect, integral part of my psyche. I can be seen as a bystander walking a dog, but no one on earth would think I’m in total bliss. I’m so happy. I want to walk through the snow in thick coating, and boots. I want some to get in my sock, just to bother me a bit. Then to melt as I seal my boot up. I want that wet spot to stay until I get home next to a roasting fire and shutting the windows just that centimeter tighter so that the howling wind persists. Spinning the record player. I’d hum to it too. It’d be peaceful, but there would be lots to do. A jigsaw puzzle everybody ignores would be the center of attention. A playful clamoring of friends and family, with hands jolting in and out – “that piece doesn’t go there damnit!” and laughter would erupt. I sit back and take it all in after I say a joke that makes everybody laugh. As they’re laughing I sit back with a puzzle piece in my hand. The scent hits me again. Sending an aromatic high. For these seconds everybodys laughter is in slow motion, the chimney crackles heighten immensely, though only I can hear it. A grin roars from my face. And everything is back in motion. The slow motion persists, and the laughter that ensued isn’t warped in the time shift. I crack my toes in some thick wool socks. Nobody knows I’m cracking them, cause the crackling of the firewood is louder and, theres laughter. It feels so good. If bad news hit right now, I feel we could solve it immediately. I go out to the porch. It isn’t 2014. It feels like the 1950s. A landrover pulling up reminds me that is isnt 1950. They didn’t exist. A scarf shields my long neck. I despise my long neck. The cold always affects it. But I guess scarves were made for me. It feels so good. Someone coughs, and I tell them, here have some chocolate and feel better. I know how it is to feel sick when everybodys having a good time. I should make everyone hot chocolate. With marshmellows. Pour some wine for the more daring. We should be happy. I take a tiny sip that wets the brim of my lips. My eyes arent burning. My allergies seem to have subsided. How much more of this ecstasy could I take.
Published by Cristian Leonardo
Poetry and writing, rhyming and story telling. Depth, and simplicity. Painfully honest. Dreadfully playful. View more posts