It and you

Gibson Pickett
Sep 9, 2018 · 1 min read

Approaching the triangular square of East Atlanta Village with the sun coming down against the windows of the coffee shop. A leisurely Sunday or Thursday watching the wheels of the bike turn, and the shadows of the trees beginning to fade. Seeing dull whites and blue greys and the sky is not clear, but my mind is.

Remember riding in the moving truck early in the morning with a rain coat hood over my head, bouncing along the dark early morning streets to move someone’s furniture from one place to another. Stopping to get something to eat. Having money to do that was something. How many times will this repeat itself. Moving up and then moved up and then losing your mind. In the hospital again, this time it’s the state facility. Your mind must be gone. It was and now it’s not and will this ever stop? At least it has for now.

I like going down this hill on the sidewalk in the village passing the windows and the benches and the people. Somethings appearing in the moving reflections and it’s next to you now and now it is in you and you are it and it is you. And none of this is real and you didn’t think it but you were thinking of what it would be like if it was and then you’re so glad it’s not and it’s very calm and everything is nice.

Gibson Pickett

Written by

Blue Mandarin Sun