Communication
There are certain phrases that we all use in conversation, that we have been conditioned to throw out, automatic responses to other key words and phrases. "I don't know," is one. In thinking about my recent epiphany on my level of communicatory skills, i noticed that these conditioned responses have become just about the extent of my vocabulary when actually talkling to people. When I'm writting, I have to think about all the words, as I type them, but not when I speak. I've become lazy in that regard.
I also had a thought on duality last night, but of course, I lost it in my sleep. Or it's just too early.
Torch
Another couple of weeks have come and gone. I'm not focussed lately, probably because of the moving and everything that needs to get done for starting the new job. I've had a pretty strong female side lately. Not that THAT makes me flighty, just distracted. I see things differently, things catch my attention differently. I could explain it, but I don't think I need to.
Sonja has finally made it out to our province. I am really glad to see her again, and though I haven't been much of a host for the last couple of days, I hope she gets adjusted to things out here and decides to stay a while. At least until autumn.
Diane and I had a "chat" on the weekend. It was actually more of a fight, I guess. She pointed out something that I already knew, but wasn't aware how conscious she is of it: I don't communicate. I freely admit that I cannot talk to people on any level that isn't linear. Not that I'm a linear thinker, because I'm not, I just don't talk. I hold the conversations in my head most of the time. What I mean is, I'll start a conversation, and actually map out, in my mind, different strings the conversation could have, and then I go silent and let the conversation play itself out in my head. The truth is, I've become afraid of what people might think of me, how they may judge me, and what parts of me I will let people see. I'm going to work on this.
10-4
Well, this is the last day for the second time up here. This stay was considerably shorter, but somehow I feel like I accomplished more. So, let's recap:
The fox went away
My blog was discovered
I finally got an office and then a computer
Dark days in the mind
Resolution both to my sexuality and my brain
Talks with Diane
New job offer
Arranging a place to live
Quitting
Packing
And of course, in there I organized the warehouse and did a damn fine job getting stuff sorted out for everyone.
This will be my last post for a little while, until I get set up with internet and get settled at the new place.
Nostalgia
"Fuckin' traitor, I don't have to listen to you anymore. You're like the Littlest Hobo, you come in here and fix everything and then leave again."
-Co-worker on my last full day at this job
I used to love that show. At least I think I did. All I really remember is the theme song and that the Hobo would literally stroll into town, right some wrongs, do some stunts and take off again at the end of every episode, sequaying almost seamlessly into the end credits.
Hmm. That takes me back.
I'm packed, for the most part. I have a place in Cold Lake lined up for living while I work the new job. People are confused by this, because if I'm so close to home, why wouldn't I just live there? There are a lot of angles. There always are for me. The simplest answer is I don't want to burn myself out driving and spending all my money on fuel. The other side is, Diane and I are used to having our own spaces, so this is a way of transitioning that merging of our lives again. We've spent so much time apart, I know we've drifted apart a little. We're both independant, and we're both distant. Sometimes her more than me. This is an easy way, I think, to bring us back together. *crosses fingers*
Stairs
It had rained the night before, and into part of the early morning. Trynn tilted his head slightly, looking up at the sky through the corner of his eye, taking a deep breath. It had rained only a little this spring, the dust and dryness invaded everything. He took another deep breath, smelling the forest around him, the soft smell of wet green, of composting leaves and dead trees, the clean of fresh rain. He could smell the balance of life, of death, the cycle of one that feeds the other.
He pulled his leather up around his shoulders unconsciously as a cool east wind washed up over him and walked down the stairs to the forest floor. He walked the rough plank staircase that wound its way down the massive tree as the branches above rustled in the wind. Trynn listened, part of his mind focused on the wind, the leaves, the soft whisper of the forest as if listening to the conversation of a friend. But part of his mind drifted, reaching inside him, drawing the feeling of the wind into his body, filling his hollow bones with its lightness. The wind inside cooled him, but there was no chill. His steps widened, his pace quickened and he started to take two stairs at a time.
Clearing the last turn of the stairs around the tree, but still a fair distance from the ground, Trynn put his hand on the railing and leapt over it. He seemed to float for a second or two, his spirit swelling at the feeling of open air, of a momentary disconnection with the physical. He laughed quietly to himself, feeling the wind around him. Gravity took hold of him again and he descended to earth. He landed crouched in a soft moss bed, his leather boots sinking into the forest floor. He stayed there, scanning the forest, again smelling the renewed life around him, listening to the rustle of the trees as they talked to each other, whispers swelled, voices grew stronger then quieted again, probably considering what was said, he thought.
Sensing rather than seeing, Trynn turned his head and looked over his left shoulder up to the staircase. Tali came down, her stride long but slow, her back straight, smiling warmly down at the elf couched in the moss. He straightened slightly, but didn't stand. He watched her intently. Her black hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, she wore her forest green tunic and blue deerskin pants. Over her shoulder she carried her wooden bow. Hunting clothes, he thought.
"I'm glad you're out this morning," she called down to him. "Feel like going for a walk?" He sat back on his haunches and waited silently for her to complete her own graceful descent. He didn't answer her, because he rarely raised his voice. It was his inaction that confirmed he was willing of her company. Otherwise, he might have shook his head and quietly said no, letting her read his face from the distance than hear his voice.
After a minute, she reached the ground and walked around the tree to where Trynn was still perched. He stood at her approach and smiled slightly. “Hunting is a new skill for you, isn’t it?” He was often taken as critical by people he asked questions of, as if he already knew the answer.
“We’ve all changed though, haven’t we?” The slightest smirk broke on her lips, volleying the question back. She waited for his return, but he remained silent and instead leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
“I suppose we have,” he said, whispering softly.
Tali stood there for a second, somewhat stunned and watched the elf turn and start to walk toward the woods.
I'm not sure where this was going, but I thought it was indicative of the resolutions I've been feeling, but to end the fued between the opposing parts of my brain. She is more adaptable now and he is more accepting. They both make up me, and I'm done trying to push them into rolls that they really don't fit in to. Not to say all the tension is gone. It's not, but I do feel better about the whole. Trynn isn't always angry and Tali isn't always crying. In fact, I find once I stopped trying to force them into those rolls that they really aren't ever angry and upset. They are more diverse and complimentary than I gave them credit for.
Little Lessons I've Learned
I perceive the world a strange and wonderful place. It is the simple things that are hardest to grasp, and we blindly accept that we are “fingerprinted” everywhere. I have become afraid to open my wallet because it always tells people where I am, what I am doing and in most cases, where I’m going. The swipe card, the surveillance cameras, the veil of the machine that really runs the world. The big business pirate, the shark with the tie and the toupee, the uncommon democratic shill who wants us to “have a choice” about who we answer to. The truth is, the voting doesn’t matter, turning off the TV doesn’t matter, not reading the news doesn’t matter. The have us all right where they want us. The police, the politicians, the pope, the pills, the secretly enhanced pineapple juice that you sometimes have in the morning because it’s different. If it really were, it wouldn’t be there in the first place.
Buy your sneakers, drink your brand name colas and beer because the bikini clad spokes model told you to. Eat your meals from a microwaved box and wonder why you get cancer. Work all the time for some nameless company, because really, it is a subsidiary of that corporation that builds the machine. And if it isn’t yet, it’s about to be. They will pay you, let you own your cars and houses and big screen TVs, your boxes for boxes, your every whim at your fingertips via the internet.... You work for them while they distract you from working for yourself. They pay you to buy their product, turning your money back to them. Become the battery that feeds the machine.
They teach us our impulses are not right, our emotions are sickness, that interacting with people face to face is inefficient. Sex is a disease, I read. That people turn to addiction because of feelings of inadequacy, but I didn’t see them search the truth: where does the feeling of inadequacy come from? I suspect it is that we are suppressed, taught that sexual experience is “sinful” and immoral, that having sexual craving is not natural, that being attracted to people, even those who are the same gender, is strange and shun worthy. It is fear of sex that sustains the sex trades. They do not acknowledge the human need for contact, the bonding of people that comes from touch, the energy that flows from person to person and the experience it carries to each. They do not acknowledge that people are attracted to other people and that it is not perversion. It is nature. So these people who are addicted to sex, to internet pornography, that are guilt ridden at having had an erection from thinking about that man on the bus or that woman in the line at the bank lock themselves in themselves, and silently masturbate to internet porn because they are afraid to approach others; that they will be rejected; that the world at large is going to throw back their heads and sneer at the perversion. They are afraid to open themselves to the world because they are berated for being human. But we have to be responsible about everything. Take accountability for what you do. I guarantee there are others out there who feel the same. I know that in unimaginable ways, people are more fucked up that you will ever be. Hurt no one, and wear a condom.
The time has yet to come where people are taught responsibility. We are taught to compete, how to make something better than someone else, but not to excel. Just do better than that guy, and if you can’t look good, make him look bad. Sue someone the first chance you get. Look for the opportunity to get every cent you can from the neighbour if you happen to fall on his steps. Get ahead by fucking your friends. Helping people has become a pipe dream while that hollow feeling they fill you with bloats you as you consume and consume. You don’t have to try if you don’t feel like it. The only thing that really matters is how you feel. Being an individual means being accepted as who you are perceived to be. Who you are is less important than who they want you to be. That’s what they want you to believe. Make a decision and stand by it. Stand up for yourself and do something that will help someone else with understanding. If you fall down, don’t blame someone, get up and try to learn from it.
If you want smoking to stop killing people, take out the additives! It’s the added chemicals that kill us, the benzene, the tar, the preservatives.
Think. Just stop and think. Not about what I’m saying, just about anything. Form an image in your mind right now and ask why it is. Go on, I’ll wait....
Trust yourself. Trust someone else. We cannot get passed the failings we all suffer from if we can’t be capable of understanding and compassion. Break free of the machine and bring people with you. Laugh and dance, cry, rage, shake your head and take a deep breath. Things are never going to get better than they are until we make the best of what we have and move forward. Wear what you want and be comfortable. Gain confidence from your skills and accomplishments and don’t be afraid to try something new. Above all, follow your instincts.
Here We Go Again
Alright, so I'm moving. Again.
I got a call yesterday on a job about an hour from home. It's really close to where I want to be (so close Diane can come see me anytime she get's the inclination), it's a better wage, and I gett to work for a different company. Sonja called me a slut last night, because I've had three jobs in two months now. I suspect this is going to be the last move for a while though. I'm really hoping this pans out, because I'm really getting tired of jumping around.
So, now I'm looking for a place to live in Cold Lake. Barb and I are going to be roommates, and I'm frantically hunting down a place to live for the end of the month.
Spotted Again
"Hey, someone dropped off a website address on my desk yesterday." I knew where this was going. I just stood there, patiently, just like last time. "It was for your blog. It's really good work."
"Well, thanks."
So, for all of you who know who I am, who read my blog quietly, welcome. I hope you find something interesting.
Having said that, I will be relocating my blog. I find the atmosphere around here stifling and general not geared to the interests of human betterment. Those of you who do want to continue to read it, please send me a comment or an email and I will forward the new address to you.
Fun and Games
Things have been a blend of intersting and just stupid lately. There are things that come up for work (which I won't talk about) that make me really question the motivation of people. I don't know why people can't work together, especially if they don't actually have to stand next to each other.
Things on my own front are more "even". The frustration I've been feeling is gone, for the most part. I've been exploring the conflicting sides of my nature a little more, letting whatever I'm feeling happen. Diane and I have been talking more too, about all sorts of things, not just my issues. All in all, I feel pretty good about myself, about who I am, and about what I am. There will never really be any answers, nothing definitive, and in accepting that, I think I understand myself better.
Tonight, I'm going to town for a beer and a visit with S. from my Art History class. We're going to go looking for comics and just generally be geeks :) It has been a coouple of months since I've seen him, so I'm looking forward to it.
Sonja, you have to call me tomorrow. There's an openning that you should be getting a call about, and the number on your resume doesn't work :P
Go Fish
Diane and I had a couple of long talks yesterday. It started in the morning with email that lasted through the work day and ended with a 2-1/2hr phone conversation. We had a really good talk, I think. When it comes to her, the hardest part for me is always keeping things from her. I said at the beginning of the year that I am endeavouring this year to be more honest, with myself and the people around me, and this is not only an extension of that, it is the focus of it.
I forget sometimes that her and I often have the similar ways of feeling. I'm not saying that we are the same, just similar. Alot of the time I doubt what I think she might have rolling around inside, I doubt my insticts about her, and miss the obvious connections of how we interact. How do I begin explaining what I mean? She doesn't always tell me when she knows things are off balance, but she has subtle ways of hinting at it; certain phrases, a mood, or other signs. I always "know" but don't see it. When I'm having a mood swing, for example, she's not the kind of person that will come running to make sure I'm ok. She won't hover and ask me six times if I'm ok. That's more my style. "You are the mother hen," she told me last night on the phone, "running around making sure all your chicks are ok." And it's true. That's why I haven't really taken the time off from work I desperately want; because I need to know that everything is fine. Instead, she'll step back and often let things sort themselves out. She'll stay out of the way unless she thinks she can help or unless I ask her for help.
We've had problems in the past, dealing with issues of my mind and emotional stability, that almost drove us apart. I haven't talked about things with her that might even remotely reflect that experience or state I was in, because I didn't want to put her through it again. I didn't want her to think that I was going down that path again, and I didn't want to have to experience the heartbreak again of seeing her so broken hearted. So I pushed down alot of things, I kept things from her, and I ignored my feelings. Of course, this is part of what caused me to be so emotionally controlling and pent up.
So, yesterday we talked. I told her alot of what I've been feeling, about what is on my mind. She wasn't surprised at all, which kind of shocked me. She was understanding and, I think, she was relieved. I thought what was going on, what I was not telling her, was such a huge thing, because that's what I do, really; the proverbial snowball. I think she thought it would be worse. There is still more to say, still alot more to work out, but I like where we're going.
Having said that, I know she knows more than I let on, and there are things that she doesn't need me to say. I am going to start worrying less about how I think she "might react", and start disclosing more to her, having more conversations, being more open. Hopefully she will do the same.
Monday
The internet in my room has been down again since Thursday. I wrote a jaded little piece about life lessons I've learned, observations and thoughts. Actually, it's probably better the internet is down because I don't think the piece is done yet. It's disjointed and confusing, but then what about my stuff isn't.
Yesterday was about the most boring day ever. I'm in the mood for reaching out to people, I think, and no one was around, via email, phone, in person.... That's alright too.
10 more days (maybe) until I go home.
I'm supposed to go to Tumbler Ridge this days-off, but I'm thinking I'm better off here.
I am:
Listening to Metric's Live Out Loud because I bought it as my random selection from iTunes.
Reading Leon D. Wild's (no relation) Rune Workbook, thank you Sonja :)
Playing X-Men Legends II: The Rise of Apocolypse. Smash everything and find the random stuff.
Counting the days to go home because I need to have a long talk with Diane.
Smut
*DISCLAIMER*
The following post is NOT intended for children or those opposed to, well, sex. I'm "feeling my oats" and decided to explore a bit of that through fiction. That said, if you aren't interested in reading something graphic, skip this post.
“What are you looking at?” Brant sat on the tree branch looking out over the forest. The setting sun and the newly formed leaves of the limbs below bathed everything in a magnificent wash of green and orange. He lazily hung one leg from his perch, rocking it slightly as he turned to look at Tali from the corner of his eye. She’d come around the trunk of the tree and was now leaning against it, her feet crossed at the ankles, her arms crossed staring out at the sunset.
“Hey there,” he said greeting her, his voice melancholic, as if just waking from a trance. “Just out seeing the sunset. It has been a while since I’ve had the inclination.” There was silence between them for a minute or so, Tali quietly scanning the dusking sky and Brant letting his mind wander again.
“Hey,” Tali said finally breaking the silence, she reached out and touched his calf, “are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he responded slowly, unconsciously leaning toward her. A small current ran through her into him, as it always did with these two. Fire spread from her fingers to his leg and to his abdomen. From there it spread though his whole body in waves, pulsing in him. He closed his eyes and felt her energy. It had been a long time, he thought to himself, since he’d felt this.
Reluctant to break contact, he shifted sideways on the branch and lowered himself to hang from his knees. He reached for her hand and pulled her in, his arms going around her back, resting his head against her belly. She smiled and pressed her own head against his chest, listening to the deepening rhythm of his heart, feeling the beat through his shirt. She felt him breath deeply.
Brant gently rubbed Tali’s lower back as he nuzzled the soft, gray fabric of her dress. His fingers started to work the fabric apart where it tied in the back. He worked through the knot that held the dress together and found her skin beneath. Loosing the knot, he pulled the dress from her shoulders, exposing her pale torso to the burning sky. His heart pounded in her ear as he took her in through his hands, moving the length of her, mapping her body. He rolled the dress over her hips and it fell at her feet. He breathed deep again, taking in the scent of lavender from her skin.
“Come down,” she said, her voice low and heavy as she took a step back. She leaned against the trunk again, presenting her lean, skyclad form to him. Her shoulders pressed the rough bark, arching her back. He lithely dropped to the ground, landing on his feet and hands and crouched there a moment, ferally, watching her hungrily as her hands moved through her hair to pull it back from her face.
Brant stood slowly and pulled his shirt over his head. His breath came more rapid as he moved toward her. Gently he touched her cheek as he bent to kiss her, his lips finding hers, they breathed with each other. They pressed against each other, their kisses became stronger. Her tongue pushed into his mouth, rolling over his. His arms went around her again as he pulled her against him, her breasts were hot against him.
Tali sought the buckle of his belt and feverishly tugged to remove it. She pushed his pants over his hips and reached for his exposed member. Gently she palmed the length of his penis, her fingers gliding over him. He sighed deeply into her mouth and pulled his lips from hers, pushing his hips forward. She kissed his neck, her mouth wide to taste his skin. Her hands moved up over his lean abdomen and caressed his chest.
His own hands moved to her inner thighs and softly guided them apart. He stepped forward, standing between them as he firmly grabbed her buttocks. He pressed the end of his shaft against her, feeling her eagerness to have him inside. He slowly guided his penis to her opening, and thrust gently, straightening his knees. She gasped, wincing slightly and then relaxed. The shock of him filling her passed as she took him. She lifted her leg, her thigh against his hip as he moved inside her. His slow rhythm, her heavy breath and the blood that pulsed in their ears created a primal beat, and the two seemed to dance. The sky’s orange deepened as they moved with each other, bathing them in fire.
Soon the rhythm became more frantic, Brant breathing heavier but more shallow. Tali exhaled with him as he thrust into her. Sweat pooled between them where their bellies touched. Finally, pushing deep into her, he cried out, his seed erupting into her. She clung to him, moaning as he shuttered in the last throws of orgasm, her fingers biting his flesh, her own ecstatic whimper counterbalancing his moans.
She opened her eyes, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and she sighed again, hugging him fiercely. She looked up at the sky, seeing the first stars appearing overhead. He kissed her neck, caressed her breasts and leaned his head against her. Slowly he sank to the ground and lay on his back looking up at her, smiling weakly. The two said nothing to each other as she lowered beside him, laying her head on him and twining her legs with his.
As the time passed, the sky darkened and the moon moved slowly up over the trees, the two lay there in silence. Brant’s arm fell asleep, but he didn’t stir. He only smiled and gently smoothed her hair. And Tali closed her eyes and took in his sweet scent.
Water
I have a better understanding of water today. I have been trying to hold myself back emotionally, to stem the flow of feeling and direct it to something I felt was “worthwhile”. Basically, I was standing in the river, trying to hold back the water with my hands. Pressure builds, the water squeezes through the fingers, and in the end, when it is finally released, it floods everything around it, clearing away everything. What is left is, at first desolation, but becomes greener, more fertile. Water carries with it the nourishment needed for everything to grow.
I’m usually looking for parallels to how I feel in the world around me. In that, I don’t think I’m creating the moods myself, but that I may be starting to see the correlations of our connection to nature. Winter is over, the snow and ice are melted and the waters have saturated and started to wash away the debris of fall. Things are greening and the rains are more frequent. I think this is how I have been these last few months. Frozen and heavy, stagnant and cold until the thaw; I had moved from a state of air to water; ice to water. My mind is not clear now, like ice, but muddy, moving and fertile. I’m emotional, like water, getting deeper, building, bringing that cleansing to the long dry places. I realize that these are the cycles of life now, and I need not stem them, control them. I am closer to balance now, because balance isn’t being all things at once; it is being all things equally.
I think I’m going to be ok.
Kind Words
On my post from yesterday, I got this email:
okay so you always make me cry when i read your stuff....so i really should stop reading your blog!!!! I hate that you feel so empty and backwards.... I am sorry that Clayton ruined your comfort zone for writing.... i am sorry for all the hurt that you feel from over the years.... butthis is you as always trying to redefine yourself.... you go through it frequently and this last one has taken a little longer than usual.. I was actually thinking of you the other day and truly wondering how you really were doing from the inside.....
You are a very perceptive person... you know who you are most of the time and that is a person who dares to push boundaries.... question everything and look at them a thousands ways because every time you will see something new and it is then that you focus into a new direction..... be proud of who and what you are.... be proud in knowing that you have people who want to know you deeper every minute that they know you and those who are threatened by your knowledge of yourself. trust what you are feeling and explore it..... and do not forget to document it because this is who you are.....
Well, there's some hope. Now I don't feel quite so crazy:
Dear Trent,
Here is your horoscope
for Friday, May 5:
You're able to sense the emotional truth of what surrounds you, no matter who or even what it is. It's time to take this unique ability and pour it into your personal projects. You can make something truly beautiful.
Change
There are easier things than waking up every day, standing on the floor and bribing yourself not to lay back down and sleep for ten more minutes. There are easier things than sitting down to explain exactly how you feel at any given moment, or to give the details of a particular event that had just passed. I used to be a writer, you see. But it's the details that make the moment, the event, the life worth telling about and I am lately void of details.
Something changed in me some time ago. I'm not sure if it was a single event, or the culmination of a series of things. Most people have a subtle power about them, an aura, if you will. A lot of those people aren't aware that they have it and generally don't notice it in others. There are people who have this in a diminished capacity, while others exude the energy so naturally, even the most mundane of us can't help but be drawn to or repulsed by that energy. I was one of these people. I had power, energy, an aura.
I'd written once about darkness, about the shadow that I wrapped myself in, the strength I drew from it, and the comfort and security it brought me. I'd told about a time that I spent "in the light", and how it affected me. A part of me never really let go of that light. It tainted me. My mind had let go the idea that I was powerful, because I experienced weakness, that I was invulnerable, because I had experienced vulnerability. My armor was flawed, my black became grey, and I was less for it.
That is not to say there weren't things that could be gained by my new weakness. I cared now about other people, which opened me to new experiences. I laughed more readily, and still do. But my emotions seem to have become unstable and moody. I became more hot headed, reactionary. Where before I planned everything, compensated for myself and my abilities and looked at the outside influence of random people as stationary, mutable things, now I am spontaneous, unpredictable and impetuous. I explain everything to people now when they look at what I do as chaotic. I no longer hold close the secrets that made me feel unique. I seek understanding, acceptance, recognition, gratification. Especially the gratification. I learned through a series of hard lessons, that one can only amaze people for so long when you give away your secrets. That people will no longer look at you as unique, as brilliant when they come to know "how" it is all done. And worse, people learn to feed on your power, they control you, use you up. They chain you to their great energy sucking machines and leave you a broken husk.
But I digress. In letting in the light, I didn't become a new grey. It instead was light/grey/black. Where the two came together there was a third created. I have come to know myself as a vast being, a soul mostly only bound through the limits of my mind. Each of us, carrying the Divine spark, has the beginnings of everything inside of us. The God(s)/Goddess(es) essentially lent their power to us, brought all the elements and powers of the universe to bear to create life/anti-life. And so in me, the light and dark, fire and ice, came together and shaped within me a new being, a new life, a new universe. One which I have since been trying to resolve.
The dark parts of me are darker now, and the light brighter. I am the child and the monster now, the masculine and the feminine, the lover who waits by the window for love to return and the lost warrior who may never been home again. I am the rabbit and the dragon, and I am still the predator who hunts the prey within himself.
I don’t know that I am ever going to truly lose my mind, ever going to become those things that I dread, go down the road that I have seen a friend go. I feel coherent, together, but these are often the lies we tell ourselves, aren’t they?
At times I feel the energy returning. I feel the old winds stir in me, the dark secret paths through the woods, the wings I once had. But it ends there most of the time, not lasting for more than a few hours. The wings aren’t there anymore, as if they had been ripped from my shoulders. The paths are overgrown. The winds have become silent and stale.
There are still many secrets I know, many things I keep, not sharing with the world. I will forever have those lost corridors, the broken tunnels that led to rich libraries, to wells and forests never touched by anyone. A part of me still lives there. The powerful thing that was me, that sleeping force. I visit him sometimes and he opens his dark eyes to me, and breathes a heavy sigh. He reminds me about the deniable truth. About this reality I’ve created and how it is only real because I believe it to be. That there is an end, should I choose it, I am the creator of this. I can change it. That the ultimate consequence of my desicion or indesicion only holds the weight I give it.
This part of me, this lost, secret part, doesn’t concern himself with the weight of morality, of physics, of law. It understands everything.
Am I truly as fragile as I think I am? No. I am a fighter, a warrior, the dragon spirit, the hunter. I have created a life where the world outside is no longer dangerous. Where my enemies no longer face me and where understanding and peace has become a routine. That fight, that fire, turned inward. My war became with myself, and the universe I built has become merely a stage on which my conflict tries to destroy itself.
Or, perhaps, looking out on the expanse of my soul, at the vastness that I am, I simply cannot comprehend it. Perhaps it is enough to say, "this is what I am, what I have made myself to be," and accept it. I don't remember if things were always this way. I suspect not, that I have reached a period in my own life where the questions have only brought more questions until I end up with an enigma.
Perhaps I'd lost what I set out to write in the first place. Maybe the writing itself is the point, just a flow of thoughts, a stream of feeling that I need to follow for a while. I feel better now for having written something. It is something I really haven't done since the post that was intruded upon by Clayton. I've been guarded since then, wary of publishing, even if I didn't admit it. Time for change, for mutability. Time to adapt and move on, to stretch out again and let my mind and heart go. I am a wild thing, and being chained, caged, confined makes me crazy.
State of Reality
"What is it?" Xanth looked quizzically across the table at Tali. The
small orb she'd put on the table between them luminessed with a slight
blue tint, then green, then pale red and purple. The colour of the
orb itself never changed, just the light it seemed to give off. The
orb was small, hardly filling Tali's slender palm when she'd held it
out to him a few seconds before.
Tali looked up at the young man from lowered brows, smiling at him
through her black hair, which was hanging in her eyes. "It's
something very special, and very secret," she said, her voice low and
smooth. She gave Xanth the impression of something dark and
wonderful, like moonlight in the forest. He smiled slightly, out of
the left side of his mouth, his eyes taking in the orb again.
He reached out, shyly, his hand hovering over the thing in front of
him. It gave off no heat, but he felt something, like a burning, his
palms tingling at first and then a sharper, deeper pain. "But what is
it? It seems," he paused, his eyes narrowing, focussing on the
sphere, "...angry...?"
Tali smirked a crooked grin and snatch the orb from the table, quickly
depositing it in a pouch at her hip. "It," she said simply and turned
from the table, "is the heart of that which hates me and the true
spirit of what was and, if I have my way, shall never again be."
Left alone in the room again, Xanth stared at the table, in the spot
where the orb had just been. He pressed his fingertips to the spot,
feeling for some residue, some remaining bit of energy. He thought
for a second that he felt it, and then there was nothing. Only the wood. "Well, that was a bit cryptic," he said to himself, sighing and
sitting in the chair he'd been hovering over since Tali's appearance
in the room.
"I don’t know why you let her spin your head." Xanth looked up as Lan walked out of the shadow of the pillar at one of the rooms entrances. The fox lazily crossed the room and curled up on the stone hearth at the rooms head. He looked up at Xanth, who was staring at him expectantly, but only yawned and lay down, his bush of a red tail covering his nose.
Xanth, tired of waiting and growing more impatient, shook his head and
stood. "I still can't quite figure out how the lot of us can inhabit
the same space, spend so much time together, and still have so many
secrets."
At this Lan laughed, raising his head and smiling at the bewildered
man. "What the hell are you talking about? The only secrets here are
the one's you create."
"What?" Xanth shook his head again, more violently this time. "How
can you say that? No one around here ever has a straight answer for
anything, and we never seem to have anyone in the same room at the
same time anymore."
"Have you considered asking a straight question?" Again Lan smiled.
"And as for us never being in the same place at the same time, I don't
think it's our fault. You always seek us out individually, and never
really join us."
"Are you telling me there are no secrets? That really, you all just
'hang out for tea and scones' when I'm not around?"
Lan sat up know, looking Xanth squarely in the eye. "Look, my friend,
all I'm saying is that the secrets here aren't as big as you make them. That it's you who is secretive. You create the mysteries. We don’t tell each other everything, because we don’t have to. What isn’t said, or what is implied, is taken as such. You seem to need fact so much, to have it laid out, to sort everything into boxes.
“Our world isn’t built on fact, but it is built on truth. We understand thing to be so, and so they are. The more we are pigeonholed, the more we change. Listen and feel, think things through, follow the line of what is unsaid and the mysteries will be solved. That’s the way it has always been here.” Lan smiled softly at Xanth, who was obviously getting frustrated. “You missed out on a lot of history here, but you know the stories, even though we don’t speak them out loud. Hearing them doesn’t make them anymore true.”
“It seems to take the truth away,” Xanth finished the thought, as the realization of what Lan had been telling him became apparent.
Give Me Liberty
What's on my mind? There's so much going on these days, with work, with my own stuff that I feel somewhat disconnected. I WANT to write, to just get my mind free again, to feel some of what I think I should be doing. It's busy, and I'm somewhat glad of that, but I want to do more.
I traded in my car yesterday, on a whim, for a 2006 Jeep Liberty. My car was starting to act up on me, so I decided it was time before I got stranded on the hiway somewhere. The new one is very cool, and I even got to try out the 4x4 last night coming into to work. It started snowing last night and the roads are sloppy as hell.
I prepared an offering yesterday and plan to take it out here to the birch tree I found last yet, but the heavy snow and rain may delay that for a little bit. I might try taking a walk out there tonight after work though. I'd like to do it before my fruit rots and while it's still close to Beltane. I might also try some free-flow writing tonight, just to see if I can untangle my mind.
Of course, I also really want to watch Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children.
