~Stories & Prose~

Here is the first in what I hope are more stories.
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Why I save old teeth.                                                                

Recently I picked up these two little off white chunks that had been sitting near my hall closet for weeks.  I had walked by them a million times, wondering what they were but too felt lazy or indignant thinking they were my roommates.  I thought maybe my roommate dropped some popcorn of which she often eats or maybe it was stuffing from a toy animal.  But not mine.  
When I finally bent down, humbling myself to grab them, I realized that they were one of my teeth broken into parts. For years I had saved four molars when I had them pulled out as a child.  I had been compared to a shark in my life for various reasons, having too many teeth was one of the reasons.  I’m sure there are more similarities and someday I will be proud of that.  Sharks have barely evolved for trillions of years.  By some standards that might seem a bit stoic, stubborn and well, unevolved.  But by another perspective it says to me that they were well built to begin with.  They didn’t need to ‘grow up’.  They required very little adaptation to changing environs.  Unlike some creatures, which literally fade out due to their inability to adapt, sharks have not had to do so and keep on swimming the seas as one of the most fearsome and efficient predators on the planet.  Kudos I say!  

To say the least I was shocked, floored if you will to find them laying down there on the carpet especially after realizing I had walked by my own teeth for weeks.  How could I have?  Shocked at my own self-neglect.

I wondered what the heck were they doing down there, by themselves without the other half of them.  Somehow this tooth, had broken into quarters and I found two of them, a perfect fit to each other.  So where was the other half I thought?  Oh no, I lost the other half of my 30 year old tooth?  Then I though, why the hell am I saving a 30 year old tooth?  
And then true reflection and humility hit me.  Ugh…I save everything.  Not just teeth, but buttons, old high school notes we wrote while screwing around instead of studying in class.  I save prescriptions I haven’t filled and don’t plan to, key chains, Chinese Jacks (I only have two now) and every piece of beauty and crap I ever wrote or painted or shot with a camera.  I have an entire art studio in my attic from when I practiced (what I call it) various art mediums.  Sharing the attic are old clothes I hope to fit into or have to repair, punk show posters from the 80’s and stacks of journals including one with all the guys I have ever slept with in my life and since added more. But why I ask myself, why?  What am I doing?  I don’t know if I have ever asked myself such an honest direct question about my rat packing tendencies, my bag lady mentality as if I went through the depression instead of my grandparents actually living through it. It’s as if I am preparing for a major depression again and darned if I won’t be prepared.  In the end, I’m sure I will find something I forgot?

After some thought I realized that some secret part of me is holding onto to life dearly, as if to never let any part of it go no matter how painful it has been; to never forget any of it, ever, no matter how disappointing certain moments were; despite truly and utterly devastating times in my life when I did not want to continue.  I’ve kept holding on as if life were so great that I didn’t want it to go away.  In any form I have held on: ideas, people, things, notions, beliefs, fat, food, visions to the bursting, other people’s voices and opinions on how I should live and think even if I disagree, I remember how they feel. I have figured out to hold onto almost every piece of my life at some juncture or another as if somehow I will return to their use.  That I might return to those moments myself, like a child in a time warp reliving things again or simply to remember.  Perhaps to relive these moments so I can understand them better, more clearly and feel it all over again.  Come away stronger with greater insight.  Maybe I didn’t understand it at the moment, get it in a way that allowed me to move on and grow; Readying me for the next moment so I could be armed, prepared for whatever lay ahead.  Instead I bounded from moment to moment like a blind puppy bashing into brand new walls and waking up wondering where I landed. 
This all makes me wonder about past lives.  Are they real or some fantastic concept that we have invented to help us understand our purpose, our pain in this life.  If I was alive at another time, perhaps I didn’t learn very well or get to finish and was killed by an early age, even repeatedly.  I like that, and will use that for awhile until I get to the next place here and now.  Cause it makes sense to me why life’s lessons have been so painful, so strong.  I wasn’t getting them fast enough.

With that I think, what am I going to do with all this stuff?  When will I be ready to let it go?  I can’t wait for that day anymore. 
I imagine coming home one day and my house being filled with nothing but a few essential and beautiful items.  Just enough stuff to eat sleep and warm myself with.  And then out of that will come me.  I will emerge into something new, clean and clear and not laden with old familiar baggage and tokens of a past life telling me how to live my life, which way to go.  Kitsch that remind me of another part of my selves that are now gone, tired or confused, moved on out into the air and have become the dust that surrounds me now; the very dust that chokes me at times as it is kicked up when I have to relive those old moments or when I have to, heaven forbid, go through my junk and get rid of it mandatorily because a parent or a friend or my conscience is telling me to do so.  
Let go child, let go.  

That is a dream as of now.  Today I found two little pieces of me sitting on the ground all alone and neglected, after having been ignored for weeks, being mistaken for popcorn and passed off as another person’s responsibility.   I was saddened to see my teeth so neglected and abandoned so I kept them.  I placed them in a random but slightly organized place in a plastic container with real latches and other useless beauty products I have saved because they were free and why would I throw out free beauty products and yet I don’t use them, stuff. Pant pant. 
I don’t want to be wasteful you know? 

I think I want to be there, here now.  No more past lives, they’re gone.
Just this one.   

DanyaMosgofian©11/19/09

Child's Skull w/Adult Teeth Waiting to Come Up