Thursday, January 15, 2015

Doors that open inward

I keep meaning to post something, but I keep putting it off because I haven't decided whether I want to start a new blog now that I've returned to Alaska or just start writing in this one again. Indecision has rendered me inactive, I'm afraid. I hate it when that happens. So for now, I guess I'll take the path of least resistance and write here.

But what to write? Writer's block is the worst. I hate it when I want to write something, and I'm totally ready and motivated, but it's like the words of half-formed ideas are trying to shove their way out of my head so fast that they clog the way and nothing ends up coming to me. It reminds me of one of the rare history lessons I actually remember from grade school. I think it was my sixth-grade social studies teacher who taught us about some big building or other, I think in NYC, that caught fire. Everyone inside was panicking, pushing and shoving to get out of the building, but the doors opened inward, and the people at the exits didn't have room to open the doors so everyone could get out. Consequently, a lot of people died. I think she said after that, a law was passed saying that certain kinds of buildings had to have doors that opened outward for that reason. Obviously the door leading from my thoughts to my hands opens inward. But if that's the case, then obviously my thoughts can't be that bright, if they aren't even smart enough to just take a step backward so the door has room to open. That's one of the problems with quantity over quality, I guess.

Doors are funny things. I know a lot of writers that contemplate the meaning of doors. Some people like to hypothesize that doors are some kind of magical portal because they can magically get you from one place to another. These people are often high, I think. Doors are just empty space with an outline that holds the wall out of the way. Nothing magical about that. Unless the doorway has been enchanted, of course. You know what is magical about doors? If you close the right ones at the right times, you can keep the dogs from stealing your food.

One time I tried to open a door inward, but I was half-asleep at the time. The door swung open faster than I meant it to, rebounded off my big, clumsy foot, then crashed into my head as I tried to move forward through the door. It kind of hurt. Stupid door. If I had been two people, the one watching it happen to the other would have laughed hysterically, though.

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