Who Watches

Who Watches

As a kid, TV was like Cap’n Crunch (love where they put the apos­tro­phe): some­thing I wanted, but did not have a lot of at home. We had a TV, but I always wanted to watch more. I would go over to Danny’s house across the street for both Cap’n Crunch and lots of TV. End­less. He could watch what­ever he wanted. Because of this, he was not that inter­ested in TV. That is how these things work, I guess. Take the energy and the taboo out some­thing and the child wan­ders off. Put the taboo in and it’s flies and honey. At some point per­mis­sive­ness back­fires, I am sure, but I loved going to Danny’s. I would eat the Crunch until the roof of my mouth was raw.

In me are both these peo­ple – the instant no and the reflex­ive, screw you, yes. It is like a big guy is star­ing down at me with the ”no” ready at any moment and look­ing up at him is a lit­tler, younger me whose mid­dle fin­ger is cocked and ready and you says, screw you, yes I can. Who are these two peo­ple talk­ing to? Who is this that is writ­ing to them? It feels like I have these two peo­ple in me and yet they are not me. I did not used to know that. The guy writ­ing this has choices and is not afraid of yes or no. Weird. A new me woke up. Is there another me dream­ing, uncon­scious still?

Utah, 2009, Nikon D100, nat­ural light, Aper­ture 3

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