wild_zero

ended up distraught, half-awake. i went to an art show. my friend makes amazing renditions of people that all exude this marionette quality, something i can understand and see in others. lithe, sad, and longing bodies for that one moment where we actually feel alive. nothing else compares to that summary of the self. we can't all focus pain onto a medium - most are doomed to carry it in themselves, or worse, to pass it on to others. the source of all the world's suffering - either muted or staring at us with blank expression, always waiting for a listener. afterwards, we yondernated to drink. i can't help but think there's more to it all than just an excuse to leave the skin for a while. maybe i look too much into things and that's my true poison, more so than drink and smoke and little sheets of paper. sometimes it's better to stop thinking and simply enjoy what is, and ignore what isn't. still, it seems too shallow to take things out of context - to apply meaning where none exists and consider things which are of no value. the connection isn't lost on me - puppets, you and i, in an absurd theatre, wishing life was more than just obligation and sincerity. we then went on to more silliness, watching the strange. watching you go was odd - left wishing i could say things better, that i could be of value in a world filled with empty promise. we create our own obstacles and some are tough to destroy - part of me wishes i could go back to a time where things were simple in their own right - nobody had any complications, any bills to pay, any say in anything. back then, there was much optimism. almost - too many options to consider all at once so we all ended up doing nothing, or taking the hand life dealt us all, one at a time. it almost leaves me no choice - either accept this past is dead and long gone, and take in others as they are. or to simply stagnate, hoping somebody somehow escaped all that and is living like i am. i need to move on and accept i'm the exception to the rule; no duties, no regrets, no hurt. that either i'm there to dull the pain and be a new start, or i'm just going to keep on looking, hoping somebody breaks the rule and is more than the sum of their parts. i'm going to be waiting a long time.

the next day was gentle. i managed to work more or less close to home and it was very relaxing. matters became complicated once the phone calls started. i decided it was worth it, to go and just be and let things happen and not worry. i gave it a sincere shot. we held close, danced, and laughed. but something just wasn't right. there is no joy once the hand is dealt and there's no other option. it's either this, that, and something more or it's just stalling until something that is that comes along and makes it all worth living. i understand, though. i'm here, wanting to put the skin aside for a moment in time and enjoy - but reality is harsh and always rests in the foreground, no matter what the topic. it's impossible - and i'm ok with that. you can't erase decades of truth over a few hours and some drinks. i can't possibly expect that of myself and to actually see that in another person is unlikely, if ever in my life. maybe i'm not so sincere after all. maybe the desire to not have things hanging over my head is so strong, i can't even recognize it in the midst of all other background noise. so my role is to wait - elsewhere perhaps. the story might be the same anywhere i go - different settings, different costume, but same plot. i've asked for too much - autonomy without regrets and circumstance, strength without bouts of weakness and sorrow. entirely too much for one person to embody and continue to exist among us all. worse than icarus himself, for at least he touched the sky. it's a lesson i have yet to learn, and probably never will. like a fate i already know - to die trying.

some of you know this, but i came very close one time. it was a horrible experience, and i can't even begin to put it all into words. i had reached what i felt was a situation that could not merit resolve. there was a lot of energy and time i had devoted to purging myself of unneccessary requests of others. trivial things were (and are) easy to overcome. i can accept preferences and fears. then i started tackling other things: walls, loops, obstacles. such things are at first difficult to embrace in somebody else, but with time and devotion, you can overcome such things and still love. this happens because you come to see the person as they envision themselves to be, not as they are or how you wish them to be or any such nonsense. anyone is much more beautiful when you see the elements of their ideal struggling to break through; if they are aware of such things. and even if not, you can still imagine and hold complete admiration. and yet - when all else is forgiven, still much more is asked than you can give. i gave up a lot of preferences and things which were irrelevant - then i gave up the desire to be treated as an equal - then i gave up my own ambitions and the sense of self. each more difficult, but i overcame my petty urges for love. ego lost, i was my true form - completely nothing of significance or merit. and she wanted even more - for me to be less than nothing. to literally give up life itself, experience, and being for love. it was a self-defeating, and contradictory request. that which nobody could do, where all effort is vain and wasted. and when i said no, i failed her. to say she didn't want anything to do with me simplifies it. she didn't even want to acknowledge i had ever graced the face of the earth. and for love, i almost made that reality manifest. i collapsed on my floor and darkness consumed me. this is how i'll be found, i thought - this is the last time i give anything unto the world - and it would be nothing but hateful, senseless harm. it took me three days to completely recover - and by that, i mean psychologically and physically. i was drained, emotionally and otherwise, and all i could do was rest and drink water. there were two days where i had no thoughts - just a base animal need for survival. the third day came and i finally felt remorse and regret for attempting to end my life.

and i thought about this when i drove back home, listening to my music, watching the light of the city get warmer and closer as i approached it. i thought about what it all meant for me - to know i can't falter anymore in my desire to manifest what i feel is right and true in the world. to go against that, is death itself. so i have no other choice but to wait - both patiently and impatiently, for that moment to come where i can see her in eyes and know i don't have to give up the elements in myself to appease or ignore her past.

an almost appropriate coda occured the next day, as if on cue. i went to see my friends' roommates play in their metal band at the masquerade. at the show, i ran into the inspiration for my raccoon story, "pet". she was her usual self, both casually transparent and drunk. somehow, she learned of the band's afterparty and made chase. i was stoned to the gills after having smoked with the metal band and arrived at the party quite disoriented. after a couple of beers from the keg, i resigned myself to the couch - mostly, bored with the entire college scene that i was definitely removed from by many, many degrees. i seriously felt old - not tired, but just completely detached from the experience and i was in no mood to analyze and partake in the general minutea of such a thing. she sat next to me though, turned down two men, told me she was looking to finally graduate after seven years, complained about her job, and waited until i told her i wanted to sleep with her. i told her no such thing and she left suddenly, without warning or goodbye, and it didn't really matter to me. just as i was detached from homepark, she too, went along with it. it is nothing to waste my time with, just like trying to capture the spirit i had wandering the streets of homepark wasted until morning all throughout 2003-2004, in one vain night. i had some coffee, and went home.

the next day was lazy. again, i didn't shower and didn't change clothes. i think i can manage that one day a week, at most. it's good to be completely committed to nothing, for just one day. i did manage to go out, but soon lost interest and went home.

today was lazy as well. i tried to invite her out, but she was busy cleaning house for the guy that wears a pewter battleaxe on his right ear. appearently, she decided to move in with him. i think i'm more attracted to who she could be, rather than who she is: a drunk letting life trample her around and hanging on to an existence that isn't worth the time. out of that loop, out of those elements, she would be an amazing, awesome person who could do just about anything. but she doesn't challenge it all and stays doomed to let life fog everything. if only i had the strength and courage to grab her and say "look, god-damnit, there's so much more out there! quit wasting your god-damn time! get up and out and start building the way out, today, now!" - but i'm weak and inarticulate, and it would come across as pretty presumptious and rude. i respect her too much to ever attempt such a thing, and i have this dumb hope/faith thing going on that she'll come to such terms on her own, whether i'm around or not. it would be comforting if she found the answer in either case - there is much love for the person i imagine she can manifest if she only chose to do so. it sucks to have little more to look forward to than to sit on the sidelines and cheer others on, in their quest to become their true forms - while i wait for my own moment to come, someday.