There was this girl in a TV show who could not ‘get over’ (detestable parlance) her ex, and was being pathetic enough to entertain all his nonsense, to the extent of giving him a lift when he was going to see his current girlfriend (with whom he cheated on this one) and so on. But then, in the midst of this suspension, she happened to realise that the ex had not watered her plants. And suddenly, all at once, she was ‘cured of him’.
And there was this guy in a film who had lost his love to all intents and purposes, fought with his best friend… but he kept the upper lip stiff. Till the hour when he meant to call one friend and ended up calling another. By mistake. (Except that there are no mistakes, as he says.) And then this guy broke into tears.
Suspension is when the dust has settled and you realise that the bomb was dropped on your floor. Or perhaps your floor fell when it had no business to fall. Stupid, selfish floor. Suspension is when you need straws. Suspension is not crossroads because crossroads suggests two or more roads to choose from. Suspension is a lack of anything resembling a road, a path, a track, a route. That is why straws indicate the possibility of a way. Or. They may at least indicate which cannot be the way – which is the no way. To break the donkey’s back or to clutch and survive hangs upon a straw.
But straws are also unreliable – even treacherous. Too often (or is it always?) they move the way the wind blows. You cannot feel the wind if it is too light, but straws being straws will take even a breeze’s direction. And hence. When you have to go towards, every straw will usher and urge. And when you have to go away…
When you have to go away, even straws acquire the audacity to shove you. Or at least pinprick. And pinpricks may well break your back.