A cracked mirror, distortion of a shattered being.. the first constructionhad a bad bend, and this funhouse has made monster upon monster. We lookin the mirror, further down this path of insanity.. we've already passed thepoint of no return. In fact, we never really were anywhere shy of the edge ofthe cliff, never had a taste of the real syrup. There's no way we couldknow the Truth -- we're beyond imagination. We live on the rosin dust of aviolin bow..
Somehow, though our goals align, you never gave me the support I needed.A casual friend taken to the extreme, you offer light praise, while Istarve on the street. You see my tears, and look sad, but walk on by.I don't fit into your schedule -- you have no budget for sympathyor a helping hand. Watch me being left behind as you continue yourgoose-step away..
It is like the wooden moulds used to construct sidewalks, the teachers who want,maybe need, to be surpassed by their student.
There were always two kinds of offers, the haggling between two people whowant to make a deal, and the silent, take-it-or-leave-it, that often sitsunused, invisible, unexplored. There are always paths to where you want to go,albeit with sacrifices that make the labours of hercules seem mild.
A vision -- dive, dive.. hands over head, no thought, eyes closed, hundredsof people diving through a waterfall, or a shower? It is only in fallingthat we appreciate how high we have stood.
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The final duty of the body, hand over hand, things leak, systems on the largeand small have given up, mail is piled up in the mailroom, undelivered,unretrieved. The syntax, shall we say it, is borked. In death, she showed asurprising tenderness, unlike in life. Determined look in eyes, she slowly movedto the body of her lover, his eyes open, immobile, watching the sky after thelungs stopped, before the light of life left his eyes. Pain, but the chance toend it right.. one painful pull later, her head rested on his hand,another, and she snuggled into his cooling frame. A gasp, and she felt thebreath leave her, death rattle, but she felt safe, unraveling with him. Thehabits peel back, revealing the strategies. "What do I want? To end with him"the strategies peel back, leaving the wants.. "Warmth, love".. the bright-eyedchild briefly awakens.. "Things are different.. What comes next?" and thenthe last things, the instinct and the feeling, given the whole of the brain.Their eternal struggle for the brain complete, they echo soundless pain astheir moment of victory ends all too soon.. vision, the inner fire, theflickering flame goes out, leaving only the repetition of the smoke, theremaining patterns first a parody of humanity, then the simpler patterns ofinert matter.
Some additional thoughts from the trip..I visited Chippewa, and while things looked very much the same as when I wasin elementary school, the back looked a bit more cutesy and small.The latter I understand -- I was a lot smaller then. The first? Maybe thingsare more cutesy nowadays, a need to counteract fears of rapid adulthood.Each generation's rosy views of their past leading to a convergence touselessness.
Yes, this trip involved a lot of visiting of Brecksville -- I drove all overthe place, taking pictures. The old house is for sale, for about $300k. Itwas odd, seeing the advertisement for it in the tube.. I still rememberevery corner of that place. I didn't really visit as much with my family as Ishould've but the time wasn't as free as I thought it'd be. More thoughtson the wedding? Not really.. I guess I've covered it all pretty well, althoughmy thoughts linger in my mind. Wistful happiness, loneliness, large dose ofnostalgia, longing, happiness.. and goodbye. I'm not good with that last one.So long.. Fare thee well.. The dancing, it's one way to try to keep my mindoff how I felt.. I danced to say goodbye (goodbyte) .. to express what I wasfeeling, because I was afraid to talk.. or maybe it hadn't progressed evento that point. The ending of the dance.. the last two songs.. we all joinedhands, and made a ring around the two of them, hands up and down, as we movedin and out, and then circling around them. It was the sweetest pain I canremember, overwhelming. I just don't know what I can say about it, but it's amoment I will remember forever, and even the memory of it fills my gut withemotion, the pre-prism kind of undifferentiated .. *stuff*, the kind thatmakes you lose grip of who you are, a little bit of heat to melt and reformthe wax of ourselves, brings unfamiliar shapes to our lives, makes us seethings in ourselves that never were there before.. an insight, or the eaglesees something truly new. In potentia, or novel intro.. the difference becomesnull with sufficient perspective. Overwhelmed, even a day and a few hourslater. Have fun, yes, have too much fun.. and farewell. So many things unsaid,so many things that will remain unsaid, and the duty of the prospective speaker,on the other side of the closed door, to hold them until they dissolve. Justas I hold another burden to someone else. Amber said something touching, orperhaps sappy, depending on what's in her mind -- "I've only ever really lovedone person". How nice that would be. To be with the only person one's everreally loved, to be able to say that honestly, and have it be true. The doubt --it's justification for one's current state in life. But I don't know her wellenough -- not my place to pry into every mind. I can honestly say that I'mnot in the state she described.. I really have loved twice.. different shapes tothe emotion, state of being, of love. Oy. Speechless again.
Today, after waking up suitably late to make up for getting to bed so latelast night, Jason and I went to IKEA, then drove around a bit, and thenthe tree, and then out for Indian food. It's really great to be hanging aroundhim again, even if only for a few days. For a long time, he's been one of myclosest friends, another of whom I expect will visit me again in a monthor so. My body is still sore as hell from so much dancing yesterday -- moresore than all the running made it earlier this week. From a preserving my bodypoint of view, I think dancing is more strenuous, the way I do it, thanrunning is for me. Note, na klar, that I'm talking about fast dancing -- Ienjoy slower dances too, but it would've been a bit odd for me to do much ofthat with who I was dancing with. I guess on the topic of fidelity, I ama bit more conservative on what I provide, and expect, than most people..or at least most people I hang out with. Some of my friends tell me that theydon't actually care if their s.o.'s have sex with other people, so longas their relationship is uniquely close emotionally. Others tell me thattheir relationship isn't unique in the emotional way, but is uniquely closein the commitment to being there for each other, or in planning life together.I don't know if it's the liberal folk I tend to associate with, or if thisis just unusually candid but still representative talk covering the lifestylespectrum.. and of course there are a number of people who have, or at leastexpress, viewpoints closer to mine. The majority, I think..To me, a uniquely close emotional bond, reciprocal sexual and, to a largeamount, sensual exclusivity, and planning/spending life together are the essenseof a relationship. A number of intuitive-type dos and don'ts also come with thepackage, and a few other minor points. There exists in my mind the possibilityof 'play' relationships -- no commitments, mostly sensual/sexual, with littleof the emotional (or intellectual, which to me does a lot of the feeding ofthe emotional) ties.. Some people suggest to me I should do more of that kindof thing while I wait to see if/when I have a chance for what I'm really goingfor. Hmm.
Idea - scene recognition. A device that maps out a room, via echo or similar,and when walked through enough rooms, would map a house or area.
I'm still leeching wireless off of my neighbors. It's decent, although theirwireless doesn't penetrate so well to my apartment, so I keep losing andregaining the connection. Not fun. I'll need to order new DSL soon.
Ugh, I am *so* sore from dancing.. blistered and sore.. Watching doors close.. and wondering about the other side..