Author: tiphane

Found, and Lost Again

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Found black leather bound note book with journal entries starting December 7 until the last one December 21, Solstice Day. It was at the top of the escalator, swept by every step rolling into the metallic comb, at the Embarcadero Muni Station, some time past nine pm. There was no name and address in the book, but well-structured notes taken at the end had plans to find a place to stay, among other things. The first journal entry speaks of the author liking a woman called Cindy, but the last entry, on Solstice Day, is written hastily with a bad pen and concludes with “too much speed, not enough sleep.” In retrospect, when I entered the BART side of the station, there was someone who seemed to be having a bad trip on top of the gates, the attendant not minding anything but his own business. How could I know, at that time, this could have been the writer? I left it on the round stone bench at the east side end of the BART …

for Matt

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I am hard of believing, I am belief-challenged, in this century of greater discoveries. There is no god in my mind to take him to a better place, especially the so-called better place where there is no suffering imposed on a select few. No consolation, no parable will fit these circumstances because at 26, he lived fewer years than Jesus himself! No. This will not do. Unless I make Matt my own version of a savior. OK Matt, are you ready for this? I am talking to you. You certainly win the competition every time I notice that something in my 61 year-old body isn’t working as well as it used to. Actually, you did point that out to me, not so long ago. And so I learned from you and I will think of you whenever I am about to complain, whenever a needle approaches my hypersensitive self. And instead of telling me what a sissy I was, or getting angry at me, you simply said, “you should try F.A.” Silence. Pause. “You should …