All posts in Life

A different context

I think something I need to seek out this coming year is a different social context to express all these emotions. It was like I had my chest blown out last week and now it has more capacity. I raged uncontrollably in a way that still frightens me. All the usual restraints were gone and I just threw a violent screaming tantrum. This is where too much honesty can be unkind. I don’t ever want to tell her how much I hated her that night and how angry I felt. I’ve suddenly developed quite a temper, screaming at the computer, almost smashing things. But somehow I feel *better* than before, like these things are okay.

And I got my birthday wish. I let it all go, I let them go, I let myself go. And now I see that anything I feel for her is because I allow myself to feel it, not because of fate or some underlying damage. For several hours, I *saw* her. Everything loathsome and wrong and hurtful and damaged and psychotic. And I hated her and I hated myself for ever letting her affect me. I raged and raged, letting all this shit pour through me. I couldn’t stop it. It wasn’t something I’d wish for anyone to see. I woke up on the floor, not sure of where I was.

And when I see her, I feel lighter. And man does she piss me off. And I still love her, but it feels like something tangible and something I’ve decided for myself, not some ephemeral glow outside of my control. But it was easier the other way.

An excellent Christmas!

Lots of wonderful things happened this Christmas! There was great food, laughing, photos, walking to see all the lights, putting out the stockings and Santa gifts, secret plans, sleeping fitfully, waking on Christmas day and making breakfast, opening gifts, playing with said gifts, napping, seeing Mirrormask again, mulled wine and then home again. Ananda got her drum set and Joey got his XBox 360 and I felt like I had pulled off a masterful plan!

33

“33” is the name of the first episode of Battlestar Galactica, season one. It’s also how old I turned a few days ago. There was a cake and a birthday wish. And, like some kind of weird 80s after school special, my wish came true.

I feel like I’ve lived a whole lifetime in one week. I’ve witnessed such horrible, astonishing revelations. I’ve been confronted with the core issues, dissolved multiple illusions, and revisited more plot threads than anything “previously on Lost…”

I felt things fall away from me with a clank, like some heavy, rusted, leaden thing.

Wine tonight, I babble. ‘Night.

Since I Gave up Hope I Feel a Lot Better

I’ve been looking for a song to serve as a soundtrack for these musings, for this week. All the old standards just didn’t suffice. But then it came to me.

Here lies the answer and end to the quest.

Bad
-U2

If you twist and turn away
If you tear yourself in two again
If I could, yes I would
If I could, I would
Let it go
Surrender
Dislocate

If I could throw this
Lifeless lifeline to the wind
Leave this heart of clay
See you walk, walk away
Into the night
And through the rain
Into the half-light
And through the flame

If I could through myself
Set your spirit free
I’d lead your heart away
See you break, break away
Into the light
And to the day

To let it go
And so to fade away
To let it go
And so fade away

I’m wide awake
I’m wide awake
Wide awake
I’m not sleeping
Oh, no, no, no

If you should ask then maybe they’d
Tell you what I would say
True colors fly in blue and black
Bruised silken sky and burning flag
Colors crash, collide in blood shot eyes

If I could, you know I would
If I could, I would
Let it go…

This desperation
Dislocation
Separation
Condemnation
Revelation
In temptation
Isolation
Desolation
Let it go

And so fade away
To let it go
And so fade away
To let it go
And so to fade away

I’m wide awake
I’m wide awake
Wide awake
I’m not sleeping…

Time Stand Still

Damn these blogs. Behold our fossil record. My words, a decade old, frozen in the amber of Usenet. I am not one to take photographs, preserving time. I believe in the sacredness of the moment, a soul that cannot be captured. So I do not write for the sake of preserving my thoughts, but the mechanism preserves them even so.

In thinking about how we have timeshifted ourselves in blogs, I realized that some people timeshift *me* in their minds, interacting with an archived version of myself.

There is a version that has never done drugs or gone to bed with strange women.

There is a version that is still a childhood friend.

There is a version that is still in love with her.

There is a version that has not grown, learned and healed.

There is a version where there is still a tower.

And then there’s Me. I’m standing over here. Put that thing down and look.

“Acceptance of Loss”

You stupid fuck.

-Ro.

Isn’t it ironic?

I notice that many responses to my blogs are from people who don’t identify themselves or who use different names. Sometimes they change the name they use. All these different names and people. And *I’m* the one who has to post in a consistent voice with a single name?! It’s like I’ve manifested my internal state on the blog, like my internal world will always reach out to impact the external one.

An Analogy

How can I devise an analogy to discuss the matter at hand?

Let us say that there is a unicorn and a boy and they love each other very much. The boy enjoys spending time with the unicorn, walking and talking long into the night. The boy has only met this one unicorn and is pretty certain that she is the only one. The unicorn has special understanding as only unicorns have and the boy has come to treasure this.

One day the unicorn says, “I love you as a unicorn loves a boy and I cannot love you any other way, for that is the nature of unicorns. But you love me as a boy loves a girl, something I will never be.”

The boy is happy loving the unicorn. He does not know how one *ought* to love a unicorn, he just knows that he does love one. He knows that he is happiest when loving the unicorn and loving girls has never made him very happy.

The unicorn says, “You should look within yourself and find the reason why you love me when you know I can never love you as a girl would. Do not stop looking until you learn something unflattering about yourself.”

What is the flaw in the unicorn’s request? I think it is that last part, the part that assumes there must be something flawed at the center of the love. The unicorn later clarified that perhaps there are good things underneath the flaw, layers of good and bad. But it was the unicorn’s first inclination to suspect something wrong at the core of the boy’s feelings and indeed suggesting the introspection seemed motivated by this suspicion.

There is the immediate temptation to latch on to some undesirable quality within myself merely to satisfy this condition. As if I could return with some lump of personal ugliness in my hands and say “Yes, you were right. Now can we move forward?” So far, everything I have turned up seems false, something that might look ugly enough to satisfy the unicorn, but isn’t truly a factor.

And maybe that points towards the issue: The fact that I even considered digging up ugliness in myself simply because she asked me to, regardless of how untrue to myself that act would be. I’m not saying that I do not take stock of myself, that I do not examine my motivations. But it was the quality of the request and my willingness to undertake it that compromised my integrity. So this is the current, truest bit of ugliness: I am willing to betray my own heart and look for flaws that aren’t there in the hopes that someone might love me. I will compromise my integrity, call it a kind of martyrdom, a sacrifice for love, when I should instead stick to my convictions.

Virtual Unrealities

Certain online communities just freak me right the fuck out. MySpace is at the top of the list. It is full of fear and horror for me. I step in carefully to read Monica’s blog and then flee. Dating sites have a similar vibe. LiveJournal isn’t quite as bad.

But what occurred to me is that the realization of Gibson’s and Stephenson’s cyberspace isn’t 3D virtual reality worlds. It isn’t that we will represent ourselves as glowing avatars of various form and resolution. The blogsphere has become our virtual reality. Here we stake out territories and populate them with iterations of ourselves, projections constructed in profiles and posts. Blogs are a kind of spiritual real estate where other people don’t just interact with *us* but with us at a specific moment in time. It’s TiVo for communication, our life timeshifted. Want to interact with the Drey from a week ago? Scroll down the page. Want to discuss the events of a certain day? It’s in the archive.

Shadows

What is obsession the shadow of? Is it devotion? Dedication? Where is the line drawn? I would say that devotion is selfless, it comes from within and goes out to the recipient of the devotion. Obsession is selfish and seeks satisfaction, taking something from the object of obsession. These traits have inverse properties: Devotion defines what is being devoted. The devotee, in a sense, vanishes. But obsession defines the one obsessing, the object losing meaning. That is to say, you can learn about the obsessed person by how the obsession makes them behave, but when you take the object of obsession on its own terms, you gain different information.

To illustrate: Say I am obsessed with chocolate. This may tell you that I prefer dark, sweet things. I am ruthless in my pursuit of such things. I may spend money foolishly to get chocolate. Perhaps you learn I am unfaithful because you witness me abandon other candies if chocolate is made available. But if you removed me from the context and examined a bit of chocolate for yourself, it wouldn’t suggest any of these things about me. Obsession attempts to imprint a context that may not actually exist.

Does this analogy work for devotion? I’m not sure it does or maybe the distinction is too subtle and slippery. Let me try: I am devoted to chocolate. I extoll the virtues of its sweet goodness. I add it to certain recipes and they are much improved. I remark on how its color and shape are pleasing. Some of these behaviors are similar to obsession, but what seems different is that attention is drawn away from me and towards the chocolate. Though my feelings about the chocolate are subjective, I am not tampering with the context very much: it is accurate to describe chocolate as sweet and generally pleasant.

Another thought: Can someone tell if they are obsessed or devoted? Is another party, an impartial observer, required to judge this? Hmmm.