DOOR

closed, open. what's behind door number 3?!?! when the door is closed, is anything behind it really there anymore? Doors of possibility. Open one door and another closes. Knock and the door shall be opened for you. the mystery of what is behind the door. Front door. If i knock on your door, will you answer? I can see you peering stealthily through the translucent curtain at the window just next to the door, i see your shadow obscure the peep hole—spy! voyeur! why do you hide behind the door? I only want to talk. I only want to talk, to not be nervous, to connect with you. It's not like i'mI'm

There are many doors, each one has its own purpose and personality. The back door is for sneaking in and out of, the front door is for official, public concerns, sometimes just for show. The side door is, well, I'm not sure. The trap door, is for hiding, or, trapping? keeping something below, a prisoner, a jar of pickles.

Doors are the size of people, portal, passage, gate, entry, exit. Border between in and out, the thin line between accepted and rejected, included and excluded, guarded tightly, left unattended. the last obstacle to gaining entry. I remember whenever someone came to the door at my grandparent's house, grandpa's little dirty-eyed poodle would sprint hyper little circles on the carpet, yapping and panting wetly. never figured out why she would get so wound up—i imagine her little brain all twisted up in a messy corkscrew, all wrung out like a little wet sponge, inside her pathetically small skull cavity. that door. i knew it like a person, it had a voice. every time it opened and closed you heard the same thing, or slightly different for each person, so you could kinda tell who was coming in depending on how ti sounded.