Some kind of electricity was under my skin

What looks like a book may, in fact, be a Portkey to your adolescence.

“I didn’t want to be at home all the time, but I didn’t want to meet anyone either. I spent my days outside, sometimes carrying my baby brother or my sister with me to sit near the river, and my evenings in my room in front of a book, the radio playing in the background. Occasionally I drew, trying to learn how to make things three-dimensional, practicing shadow. Some kind of electricity was under my skin; I alternated between wanting to lash out, and wanting to hide. […] The enormity of what I did not know. Places I had only heard of, distant, real places, where other souls, others just like me, waited for the sign their life had begun. Wasn’t real life out there?

From Canadian poet and essayist Lorri Neilsen Glenn’s essay “Tracks” in  Threading Light: Explorations in Loss and Poetry (Hagios Press, 2011).

6 responses to “Some kind of electricity was under my skin

  1. Beautiful. Thanks for posting.

  2. Lovely excerpt, thanks.

  3. Jennifer, Amy: Thank you for reading!

  4. Nicely written. Awesome blog. Thanks for sharing.

  5. Very lovely. “Some kind of electricity was under my skin; I alternated between wanting to lash out, and wanting to hide. […] The enormity of what I did not know.” How well I remember that sensation. And how perfectly expressed.

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