I Felt a Funeral in my Brain

I'm not normally a fan of Emily Dickenson, but a quick comment by John Green made me do a quick google search.

I felt a funeral in my brain,
        And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
        That sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,
        A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
        My mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
        And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead,
        Then space began to toll

As all the heavens were a bell,
        And Being but an ear,
And I and silence some strange race,
        Wrecked, solitary, here.

And then a plank in reason, broke,
        And I dropped down and down--
And hit a world at every plunge,
        And finished knowing--then--

It is that last stanza that hit me. I've used various metaphors when describing my depression during my mission. Terms like "Emotional flailing", "Sanity going down the drain", and others that I can't recall at the moment. I found this phrase, "And then a plank in reason, broke, And I dropped down and down" so damned descriptive. 

Because it was such an emotional time, and I did so much damage to myself during that year (aside from the damaging culture I was immersed in), I remember it more acutely than other times. It was a time I resolved to change, as I wasn't going to walk down that road any longer.

Although it doesn't describe everything that depression is and is more related to bi-polar disorder, I find Evanescence's Lithium very, I don't know, telling?

I can't hold on to me
Wonder what's wrong with me

Oh, and here's a discussion on the poem. I Felt a Funeral in my Brain.

To Be Beautiful

The model's name is Manon Mueller. She lives in France, I think. I'm not sure. I think she's the niece of the photographer. This isn't about her.

I've told you before that I watch people. That is if I'm awake at the time. My trips to and from downtown are mostly chances for me to nap, usually from a miserable night's sleep. I'm not at all comfortable with my commute yet. So, knowing all of this, let me tell you what I witnessed on my way home tonight.

At one of the 4 stops my train makes in the loop, a woman came in and sat two rows ahead of me. I didn't notice anything unusual about her. Since she sat facing away from me, all I really noticed was her hair and the remnant of a slight curl left over from a curling iron in the exact back of her head. Aside from her hair, I noticed nothing else about her at the time.

At the Monroe stop, two men came in and sat in front and to the side of her. They obviously knew each other but they sat and said nothing. A few nods to each other is all I saw. They were fidgety otherwise. Something about their situation made them uncomfortable. I didn't pursue it as I was tired and the rocking of the subway car quickly put me in a doze.

I regained my consciousness as soon as we came out of the second underground portion, where the train enters the Kennedy Expressway. The second stop since rising was Irving Park. A man further up in the car rose up from his seat, and that is when I became aware of him. He moved towards the exit but his gaze was firmly upon the woman two seats up. I mean, it was obvious that he didn't want to blink lest his eyes lose their gaze. He moved towards the door, as if by rote, but the train was still moving, and the door wasn't open. With his view set upon the woman, he walked into the door. Even when the train stopped and the doors opened, he didn't move his fixation from the woman at all. Not an iota. I was not surprised to see him turn his body around slightly as he moved out the door, to keep his eyes fixed on the obviously captivating woman two rows up.

Now my interest is peaked. Not because this woman was captivating to this man, but the reactions that I found around her. I'm no novice to beautiful women. I'm surrounded by them. I work with them, I ride the subway with them. I walk the sidewalks with them. I even married one. No, this was something different, probably not unlike my previous article on serenity. I was smiling at the scene that had just unfolded when I noticed another man up in the car take notice of the woman. He blinked several times and then changed the direction of his eyes, to the more mundane people in the car, but his eyes returned to her promptly. Another man towards the end of the car, probably feeling safe in his distance, openly stared at this woman. She didn't seem phased at all, as she flipped through her Instagram account.

Did I ever get to see the object of these men's desire? Not really. Once she turned head and what I saw was a beautiful woman, to be sure. She had what I would call Mediterranean features. But I didn't affix on her beauty, but her makeup. It was clearly makeup. Her skin was so smooth. Not a crease or wrinkle anywhere on her visage. Not seeing her full face probably made me not fully grasp what these other men were taken with.

With a few stops left on my ride, a man came in and sat in front of her but perpendicular to her. You know how public transit is, chairs facing all over the place. He was also struck with her. He stole glances at her at every opportunity. He squirmed in his seat, as his eyes fell upon her legs. He was uncomfortable yet couldn't stop looking at her. I left at my stop and didn't look back to see what had so entranced the men on this ride. Besides, I was more attracted to the Asian woman on the other side of the car. She had a round face. Somewhere along my road of life, I've discovered that I have an attraction to women with round faces. Go fig.

It was an amusing ride home. I wonder if she's used to such undirected attention?