sitting outside on my porch, watching the pond water, imagining all the peace and tranquility below the surface. the fish and the turtles, a meter or so below the rippling surface. not ignorant to the present situation occurring above them, just impervious to it. shielded by the very same thing they cannot escape from. their world, hockey rink sized, one meter deep. so small, so similar to yesterday. yet everything they need, even protection.
the storm is coming in. stronger than usual. i enjoy sitting here and feeling the changes one step at a time. the temperature drops a few degrees, and wind builds up. the trees come to life, waving their limbs wildly about as though in attempts to warn us of the imminent. you can feel the barometric drop, the humidity picks up a few notches, and in this brief moment.... houston feels like home. all the pollution and and the city sounds drowning out the ambient.... suddenly reverses roles, and finds itself fighting to maintain its grip on our hearing. car alarms go off, more people honk the horns. sirens in the distance, seemingly fire engine style. yet still, the applause of the trees and the crescendo of the thunder, fitting nicely with the soothing chorus line that never ends provided by the fountain in the pond. sometimes i find myself opening the window to hear it when i lay myself down. this is no longer an assault of the noise. no longer a battle for volume between car exhaust notes and rappers vs rockers. no longer is there the dispute over who has more bass, as the thunder announces natures grand entrance into the scene, much like the trumpet blare of an entering king, reminding us who is, and always will be, the most powerful.
there it was. the humid atmosphere. and suddenly, houston smells like it belongs on earth. that smell we pay money for to have on our clothes or in our homes. here it is, provided free of charge from a never ending source. the smell we imitate and name, our futile attempts to tell ourselves we can control it. the smell we package and price, the smell we seek in our homes. and yet here it is, provided by its one true source. yet... we close the windows. we hide ourselves from it. we close windows and shutters that are not even in danger of getting wet.
we relax at the pool. drive to the beach. swim in the lakes. we do nothing in showers and baths, marveling at the feeling of the water's calming touch. we avoid the rain. we cleanse ourselves and ours kitchen utensils with chemically treated water. we avoid the rain. we drink water from a never ending labyrinth of pipes. we avoid the rain.
and sitting here, now, enjoying the overwhelming sensation, this spectacle of the senses, i am calm. taking in with everything i can, my smell, my hearing, my sight and my touch. open my mouth and let my tongue taste the air. watch the brilliant light show before. feel the cool, pure water being dropped all around me. smell nature. listening to the perfect rhythm of the rain. i am calm.
maybe we should all take stock of this. maybe, every once in awhile, we should walk out into it, and stand there, open arms, and embrace this pure beauty.
its the simple things
UNRELATED EDIT:
just got off the phone with someone i never would have expected to call me, nevertheless talk to me about the things we talked about. its a terribly confusing situation, and this is one of the very few times where i hold back my leap then think, one of those times where i do NOT act to prove to myself that im free, as i talked about in previous blog... for the ramifications are far worse than the risks.... so far. i dare not allow my mind to wander into the alternatives.
its not just the fact that she called... its that she would seek me out at this time in my life...... where im searching for something to hold onto, with a now clear grasp on myself and my desires. the world acts in such mysterious ways i cannot even begin to comprehend how it works. what i do know... i need someone to talk to HONESTLY about this... someone who at least knows who im talking about if i were to say it.
leaves a lot of people out of it. maybe another blog tomorrow.
the storm is coming in. stronger than usual. i enjoy sitting here and feeling the changes one step at a time. the temperature drops a few degrees, and wind builds up. the trees come to life, waving their limbs wildly about as though in attempts to warn us of the imminent. you can feel the barometric drop, the humidity picks up a few notches, and in this brief moment.... houston feels like home. all the pollution and and the city sounds drowning out the ambient.... suddenly reverses roles, and finds itself fighting to maintain its grip on our hearing. car alarms go off, more people honk the horns. sirens in the distance, seemingly fire engine style. yet still, the applause of the trees and the crescendo of the thunder, fitting nicely with the soothing chorus line that never ends provided by the fountain in the pond. sometimes i find myself opening the window to hear it when i lay myself down. this is no longer an assault of the noise. no longer a battle for volume between car exhaust notes and rappers vs rockers. no longer is there the dispute over who has more bass, as the thunder announces natures grand entrance into the scene, much like the trumpet blare of an entering king, reminding us who is, and always will be, the most powerful.
there it was. the humid atmosphere. and suddenly, houston smells like it belongs on earth. that smell we pay money for to have on our clothes or in our homes. here it is, provided free of charge from a never ending source. the smell we imitate and name, our futile attempts to tell ourselves we can control it. the smell we package and price, the smell we seek in our homes. and yet here it is, provided by its one true source. yet... we close the windows. we hide ourselves from it. we close windows and shutters that are not even in danger of getting wet.
we relax at the pool. drive to the beach. swim in the lakes. we do nothing in showers and baths, marveling at the feeling of the water's calming touch. we avoid the rain. we cleanse ourselves and ours kitchen utensils with chemically treated water. we avoid the rain. we drink water from a never ending labyrinth of pipes. we avoid the rain.
and sitting here, now, enjoying the overwhelming sensation, this spectacle of the senses, i am calm. taking in with everything i can, my smell, my hearing, my sight and my touch. open my mouth and let my tongue taste the air. watch the brilliant light show before. feel the cool, pure water being dropped all around me. smell nature. listening to the perfect rhythm of the rain. i am calm.
maybe we should all take stock of this. maybe, every once in awhile, we should walk out into it, and stand there, open arms, and embrace this pure beauty.
its the simple things
UNRELATED EDIT:
just got off the phone with someone i never would have expected to call me, nevertheless talk to me about the things we talked about. its a terribly confusing situation, and this is one of the very few times where i hold back my leap then think, one of those times where i do NOT act to prove to myself that im free, as i talked about in previous blog... for the ramifications are far worse than the risks.... so far. i dare not allow my mind to wander into the alternatives.
its not just the fact that she called... its that she would seek me out at this time in my life...... where im searching for something to hold onto, with a now clear grasp on myself and my desires. the world acts in such mysterious ways i cannot even begin to comprehend how it works. what i do know... i need someone to talk to HONESTLY about this... someone who at least knows who im talking about if i were to say it.
leaves a lot of people out of it. maybe another blog tomorrow.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
chrysis:
Oh. And duh. Screaming feels awesome?
chrysis:
I mean, to be honest, in that situation .. it doesn't matter a single bit if she's "keeping it friendly" which she's probably not if you have to question it [and you know I'm right] -- because it's all on you [ie: takes two to tango, etc]. You're the one who keeps it there. You're the one who keeps her at bay. You can keep talking to her or not [no harm there] -- you can also keep things from progressing. Or you could allow them to .. and create a really fucked up situation.