Sunday, October 17, 2010
Used to be I'd start a write with me sitting in a bar. I guess some people saw that as something, and they'd get it in their heads that that's what I was all about. My name and drinking. I'd see some people, the way they looked at me, and there'd be this distance, because what I'd do is, I'd say out loud what I thought about things. And there was a lot of things I was thinking. Anyway. I made the best friends I've ever had just by talking like that. And those who were turned off by it, well, I guess you'd say they just didn't get it.
Used to be I'd write about how she hurt me, what it felt like, why I couldn't work things out. Why I kept trying to. She wasn't one person or another all the time, though there were times like that too. But she was a host of things to me. Things I needed to learn about myself. Things I was determined to explore before I ever ran into the real She. I never thought about people reading it. I did it for me. I used therapeutic sentences to find a peace. I am not concerned about that. It makes sense to me. It's those that don't want to find their own truths that I don't understand. Maybe they've already found them, though I look at people sometimes, and it doesn't seem like they have. Me? I only found them through writing. I carved my own personality out of stone cold words.
Now I'm ready to stop sculpting for a spell. January 1st 2010 I stood alone in Paris and began to see myself as someone who could make things happen. Not someone who reacted to events, as I'd often spent time doing. Wasted time doing. I never thought it would be easy. But the thought of finally rolling my sleeves up appealed to me as nothing had before. Sure, I took a couple of wrong turns. I went backwards for a time. But I never felt lost. Merely that some paths needed to be marked, once and for all, on the map, for what they really were. And now the maps' been set. Well, the map of the past at least.
The future - the future spans out like so many scattered stars, tossed random across a dark blank canvas. Distance means nothing in this New Future. Everything dances evocative and intimate ahead of me. The dizzying confusions of willpower and destiny intoxicate me with endless choice, and the rock I have forged beneath my feet provides the vantage point from which to admire the true beauty of The Universe. Belief, Pride, Desire have been drowned for the falsehoods they are, and instead I hold threads of reality with which to harness the power that I, You and Everyone We Know all possess in some measure. Keep it simple. Do not stray. Grin in awe at the scope of Everything, but be content to keep yourself small, mobile, humble.
In seven days I embark on the greatest adventure of my modest life to date. And in the lead up to it, I have battled many emotions, many dreams and expectations. Only to find peace finally, and as I always do, in the simple comforts of a quiet home. My cat. A bowl of pasta.
So I'll pack a small suitcase, and of all the possessions a quixotic soul must never forget, this quiet determination is the only necessity.
Oh, but I'm sure I can fit in a little excitement. Just a dash.