 |
27 August 1998 |
|
Another week has burned by. The days move too fast. The smokes run out too soon. I can't believe this. Every day, I write in my head what I see, what's going on, the impressions that these things make. Then I sit down here and nothing comes. Ok here's something: facter and I had that talk. That very night, as a matter of fact. No, he hasn't told his local girlfriend Kerry about me, and right now he can't. That hurt. I can't be a secret. We decided that a friendship for now might be the best thing. Wait and see how things develop. The next morning I sent off an email about how this whole thing made me feel, how easy it would be to try and guilt trip him. But he is confused, hardly a crime. I talked to him again by ICQ, and this left me feeling more peaceful about it. Their relationship is very new, and as he put it, he cannot show her his emotional core yet. Apparently what we have is very deep within him, and it will be awhile before he can share it. With me it's quite different. My feelings and inclinations are so much a part of my whole being, these things are among the first to come up as people get to know me. I keep meaning to ask him what's in his wallet. It's an important question, and I will say why after getting the answer. More and more, I'm overwhelmed. There is more to my job than one person can reasonably handle. And the kids have been sick lately. Boober just got over a sinus infection, and Moomie now seems to be developing a cold. The house is never clean, who has time? Which is why this journal is neglected. By not writing at least every other day, those parts of my brain are atrophying. I can feel it, numbness in the creative writing lobe.  These eyes are hard to forget, not that I want to. Ever been with anybody and it just felt right? I mean really right, like breathing. Like you were supposed to be there all along and just never knew it. Like that feeling you get all over when you've been exercising, but not during, when you're all out of breath and the blood is pounding in your head, but after you've got your breath back, and you move and the muscles flow in such a comfortable way, and you feel right, so very right. That's not even close to what I am talking about, but hinting at it. Ever been in a theatrical group when everybody clicks? When the flow of action between one actor and the other is on such an instinctive level that you don't even think of it. Like the whole cast is in such a good groove that even if somebody screws up, the rest scoop it up and navigate quickly around it and the audience never knows. And the energy flows between the actors, and the waves of energy rebound from the stage to the audience and back again. And it's all over and everything is just so right. You and these people are bound up in a thing well crafted, and it's right. Well, that's kind of like it, but barely. I discovered the sight of the Milky Way as a teenager, right after getting glasses. It was a winter night and I was feeding all the animals, dogs and cats, rabbits and guinea pigs, horse, and I looked up and oh my god! Billions of stars all in a big wide smear across the liquid sky. Big ones, tiny ones, bright and dim. I gasped, leaned against the propane tank and drank the sky. It's like that. Sort of. I read a story today, about loneliness, and how it's like living your life with something on the tip of your tongue. I know that feeling, though loneliness isn't what I would call it. There is a longing there, so powerful yet indistinct. It's a yearning for some place, some time, some person, maybe. I want badly to hit the road, to feel the gravel and the wind, and the biting, thrilling edge that is being precariously alone. But I want something else, and at times feel on the edge of tears, like right now. Not sad, but twisted inside. I'm feeling the vibrations of pending change, and know the pains they bring. The change itself may be small or great, may be far on the horizon, or not so far. I don't know. I can't be static for long. --Spring
|
Previous
List Next Names & Terms
If you are sick of hearing about soda and the soda
business, I suggest you ignore the sidebar.
|