Truth - Cloudy Head

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. There were many times when after school I would take the bus home.  While on the bus I felt as though I was in a cloud and could not see anyone around me.  I was oblivious to my surroundings and was just going through the motions.  And while I have not had that feeling in many decades, I still remember it like it was yesterday.  I’ve often read stories where people felt the same thing as that, but I never really got a definition of what it was.  Did I just need glasses and could not see?  Was I just dizzy and needed some sugar?  I don’t know other than I was in this state of suspense while taking the bus home.

 It was like a dream sequence you see on TV, where you are there, but everything around you is cloudy.  And while this cloudy feeling has gone away, there’s a part of me that thinks it will return someday when I least expect it.  I feel it’s still a part of me, even though it hasn’t shown up in quite sometime.  I think it will show up someday again, but this time I’ll embrace it as a long lost friend.  As some sort of existentialist waiting ritual, it will eventually come to me.  It’s not an easy thing to let go.  I don’t know why.  I don’t think I want to know why.  I’m assuming because if it returns I can then know it again. I can then identify it again.  In my mind it is clear as day still.   It seems like it was yesterday that it occurred.

I recall playing with my cousins and siblings while the adults were in the kitchen yelling about things.  Well they were just talking, but it was yelling since it was usually Italians going on and on about something in the old country or where to buy the best loaf of bread.  What I remember was their debates and arguments about nothing, and how badly I wanted to walk in and give them their solution to their problems.  I remember how they would ask questions of each other, not have an answer but I knew it.  I wanted to, and often would pop my head in with a response, only to be ignored by them.  Was I ignored because I was just a kid?  Heck, what did I know was probably their reasoning?

I wasn’t trying to be a smarty pants, I just couldn’t handle them going on and on when I knew the answer.  Why didn’t they listen to me?   I wonder today if I ignore kids when they have something to add to a conversation or not? I fear I may.  That outcome is probably wishful thinking on my part, since I just think they were in their comfort zone whipping their hands around and shouting like a bunch of raving loons.