Life as a box

All Hallows Eve; a day we all give in to a light-hearted look at our fears. Three days before; I am making a box. It will be my shell with holes for air, slots to see (2007 prototype is projected to come with optional side holes and a better air flow system), handles to lift for movement, and a drink holder. which was without a doubt the first thought in approaching this costume.

When I was a child, my mom made cars, castles, and tunnels from cardboard boxes. At 13 years of age, I snatched the cardboard box from her new treadmill before it was tossed aside, Jane Fonda's ridiculous outfit destined to rest until eternity or biodegradation in a mound of our leavings.

I laid it down in my bedroom, it's long flat body nearly covering my entire floorspace. My brother, with whom I shared this box, did not seem to mind. I carved a whole in the top to crawl in and I built a divider within it. I slept in it. I played in it. I did my math homework in it after midnite. I watched movies from it and I would have drunk from it.

In this shell, at this party, I am free to look out at everyone that I know that I do not know, with absolute comfort, joy, and peace. They know the box, the microwave oven and the filing cabinet and they know the box inside and that which is me, boxes within boxes. Like an onion, I peel and my eyes sting, and I laugh again like a child. I hope that Lily enjoys it just as much.

Get inside of a box and get back to you.