Another blog in a toilet:
I see myself in the mirror and think 'I have never see you before'. I guess you were right. I'm being reborn.
Part of my world totally gets this:
Your relationship with the divine is a relationship. If you don't tend to it, the divine will forget all about you.
And: relationships open and close. Ours is opening. Way up and out. There's such promise there.
Part of my world relates to any relationship change as bad. If I hang out with those folks, I am surounded by the expectation of anger, betrayal, and hatred. As if we didn't choose this.
While I do feel a lingering melancholy, a loss of a gorgeous phase of my life, I can easily see how this is the step to an even more gorgeous phase in my life. And try as I might, even when drunk or disoriented by too much computer work, I cannot hate you for anything. There is simply no anger. And betrayal? Huh? It is wrong to go down this road. I fundamentally love my life, even when I'm feeling like simply the conduit for a never-ending stream of powerful emotions, like a nylon fire hose, able to support the force of a jet of water, giving the hose form, and in turn directing the water. To act, even for a second, like you and I were not incredible, divine gifts to each other is totally wrong. We brought each other to a higher being, where we can stand on our own, and the world will forever be changed by these new people we've created. I get giddy thinking about it.
As such, I will be hanging out with the crowd that gets that.
I know that we officially declared our song to be "The Book of Love" from 69 Love Songs, but this afternoon I was struck by the impression that we really just made that up because it felt really romantic. It's true, we both believe in the multitudes that are wrapped in the single package, the book, of love. But I was listening to another song, which I thought of as a phantom Our Song that we never declared, and everytime I hear it, I think of Us. It is "Shinin'", by Mondo Grosso. We are familiar with it because it's the first song on the first wave of falling bricks in our favorite PSP game, Lumines. Japanese acid-techno with an Englishman singing:
Word of silence
creeping silence time
bird of sadness
seeking flightless mind
Bird of silence
breaking for this light
Note of brigthness
all we give
then we're shinin', shinin', shinin'...
In a huge loop with a scattering of other lyrics that I can never make out.
The pleasure in this song, and why I see its slightly truncated PSP wave 1-3 version as a potential candidate for Our Song, is that it is embellished by the playing of the game. Eliminating blocks, and when you're good setting up three or four cinematic sequences of blocks to fall, calls forth a whole set of ancillary effects, visual and aural, that are not in any remix of the tune. They are the effect of being in the song. Our Song becomes unique every time we play. We have arrived at a Japanese-English intersection, a higher level of Our Song. Like all games, the whole sequence of falling and moving and rotating and watching and stressing is work, but false work. It produces nothing but more pleasure, without any object whatsoever. It not real, but neither is the Book of Love.
It's a huge loop. Then we're shinin', shinin', shinin', shinin'.
Thought, in the bathroom at the Pavilion, with the world's most crap-assed club music going:
I am always at peace. Even here, where my serenity should be lost.
Then my pee was over and I went in to shake my booty.
I'm at a family gathering at the family farm in very remote northwest ohio (near Bowling Green). The cicadas are wailing, signal waves over the cool summernight fields.
I feel wonderful, surrounded by love. It's easy to feel like everything is going to be okay.
Oops, retraction. (Never underestimate the range of feelings one can have through a single day).
After I arrived, I felt it again. That I have more than enough for everyone. Didn't mean to cover that up.
...And that's pretty much going to sum up today. Went through all the napkins. The dog knows I'm upset, and gave me that *huh?* look while I was packing, and that made me cry. He just wants to be around me, and can't get why I'm not acknowledging him.
It reminds me that I'm not acknowledging you. I'm not dense, I'm just feeling a bit of withdrawl, and letting myself be there. After all, my therapist need remind me of something I do only once, and then I notice it on my own. But I swear I have nothing to say. I feel like crap, because I'm bewildered, and I'm going to be there for a little while.
I thought I'd have a lucky coincidence and be able to jet off to ohio, see my parents, see the farm, and all the people who have loved me since I was born. Of course, those early august lightning storms have yet again cancelled my flight and I'm in limbo, yet again today, about where I'll rest my head for the evening. And I'm stuck in an airport for 5 hours with nowhere to go and cry. Meditations space? Too sterile. The concourse? Too crowded. Lounge? CNN arouses other powerful emotions, enough to distract me.
I left my computer at home. Bought The Tipping Point because I left my book, too. Thank goodness I can blog from a blackberry. If I don't make any calls, and keep it off vibrate, I can tap on the best thumb-sized querty until sunday.
Woke up sad.
A little later, the part of me that doesn't think just begins to cry. Lots. “Burst into tears” works. So, I let it continue to not-think. I don't really have any other ideas. Fundamentally Don't Get It.
Picked up a lot of napkins from S-bucks today. At least I know those will come in handy.
Speeding motorcycle of my heart
Speeding motorcycle; always changing me
Speeding motorcycle, don't you drive recklessly
(mp3 for try-it-on purposes only with Yo La Tengo backing Daniel Johnston, singing on the telphone)
wow, two years ago i felt like a crumpled, muddy dollar. now, i'm just annoyed for not getting the memo. i hear a lou reed song and remember when jonno and i did karaoke in that skeezy french quarter bar:
And, everyone who ever had a heart
They wouldn't turn around and break it.
And anyone who ever played a part
They wouldn't turn around and hate it.
and at the time no one got it, and I laugh because even then i got that it's a pattern, we either go on a healing juju journey or we give up and break our own hearts a million times a lifetime, no matter who we're with. thanks for lending me the book that told me that.
ps all work in this domain is copyright chad the minx.