self depiction, extrication, and deprecation by Polly Bland

Backflash: Santa Monica, California circa 1989. 
My mother had been left. He found out she was pregnant and he left. Of course he didn’t leave right away, not before asking for a simple abortion. Yes, Polly Jane Bland, unsuspecting cells, could have been aborted. My simple remains could have been lying somewhere in a trash can or could have decomposed in a toxic waste dumpster outside of an abortion clinic along with one of my earlier siblings. 
But that is not the case, and I am thankful. I feel as if I have made an impact on the world, being an almost aborted cell. Thanks to my mother and amazing father Dennis who adopted me, I am alive and grown with clothes on my back, a computer, and a cup of coffee beside me. Oh yeah, and thoughts. Aren’t thoughts the most amazing thing you ever do? What is life without pondering what our existence truly means? Funny thing is, you can think and think on it as much as you like- say, your whole entire life- and have little more information as to why we exist than what you started with. Baffling, eh? I, for one, have spent a great amount of time on it but have not reached the summit and probably never will. Maybe those people who feel like they do (no one knows for sure, of course) are the people who are believed to have reached spiritual enlightenment. 
As for now, I have to leave the writing station- which consists of little more than a laptop and a wicker basket. The day brings me many adventures and I’m not willing to lie around and rot. 
love, polly

1 comment:

Jake said...

I've read this post numerous times, and, like clockwork, I get all choked up immediately afterward.

You are truly one of the most optimistic and inspiring people on the planet, and I thoroughly appreciate the time and experiences I have had the pleasure of sharing with you.