By Tamara Hunter
No indeed….some things operate of their own accord. You can try flicking their switches, but really they don’t need the help. They are self-contained and self-perpetuating. You can try to push the stop button, but they continue to blink and smile at you, like some cheeky and infuriating Cheshire cat. Bits of them might be susceptible to invisibility from time to time, to suppressibility. Bits can be hidden sometimes. Bits can be denied…for a time. But the smile remains. They tell you annoying things like: if it looks like a duck, talks like a duck, walks like a duck…it probably IS a duck. They laugh in your face and tug at your gut and make you feel small. They make you feel tall and they make you tremble when you’re in your bed at night. They prick the back of your eyelids and they send you soaring with happiness. They make you smile to yourself when you’re driving along and they pop unexpected thoughts into your mental toaster just when you’re trying to concentrate on something. They buzz and they hum and they tickle and tease. They are the best of life and the worst of life…they comfort, they nag, they are a constant companion. You can’t pull the plug on them. They won’t let you.
Adoration, exaltation, exhortation. Pericombobulations, connotations and expectations. Acceptance, denial, heaven, hell. Yin, yang…the price you pay.
©Tamara Hunter 1999
Waxings 