westley

There are only so many relatively uninteresting ways you can say that you have nothing to say - mope and wander - fucking whine and blah - just blah in the most lost sense and late night doesn't seem to have the same thrill it once had (or perhaps never had). But you have to push and keep pushing in the face of emptiness 'cause adversity wasn't the right word at all - and words are just symbols that get forced to symbolize the most nowhere concepts - and here's a concept: destiny loves the carrot-rope game - everything has to be kept at arms length 'cause the length is where the lesson's learned, yet if I've learned anything distance means nothing quantum physically speaking, and all this talk is getting me nowhere which is apparently exactly where I'm supposed to be.

I'm not sleeping 'cause keeping the language off the streets is an all-night gig. It doesn't pay well, but the fans are alright. "Turn up the houselights - I have something important to say!", and then he says, "Eschelon yr dreams and they'll come true." (type slowly) But I'm typing so slow that I don't see the point - it feels like trying to read a road map by pressing your nose against the "you are here" sign - all the rest is blurred. And he speaks up once more to say, "Frozen images, respected few." (type slowly) And this all feels like it would make sense if I could step back and see the big picture, but I can only move forward at a human pace. (blind and guided) And the guide is being more obvious tonight - he's ditched his usual zen-prick silence - given up his usual no-response is the ultimate response trickery 'cause I'm cracking - I've nearly blown my cover. He's begun resorting to spy-like imagery - everything has a meaning so now I have to cling to every word that passes my ears or pops into my head. "Simply put, I want to grow old. Dying does not meet my expectations. Let's drink a toast to all those who arrived alive to tell about their struggles in hushed tones around the fire. It's late winter." And everyone sings in unison, "We are underused." I had a sense of that when I originally signed onto this job thirty something years ago, though it's taken Saturn's full orbit to really drive the point home.

I think it's the separation that bothers me most (even if it's only temporary.) Don't take this job if you're not cut out for seclusion. Nor should you take this job for the admiration it inevitably brings. Take it because you're in love with love. Take it because you realize everything's magic. That's why I did. Anyway, I've gotta go now. It's time to brighten the corners.

"Listen to me. I'm on the stereo."