it occurred to me just now, as i was talking to god in halting and simplified spanish, that it was a remarkable metaphor for my life as a whole.
it seems as if everything i do is confused and hesitant, a class of things that roll unfamiliarly from the tongue and awkwardly from clumsy hands. my actions show that i am still less than fluent in language, and i’ve realized what it is:
i’m still not completely identified with that second skin my body wants to reject though it knows it is its only hope. i’m the ignorant fool who keeps drinking salt water, thinking it will quench his thirst.
