aosid's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- revisionist being we begin by reprinting old entries that are still true (with the regrettable implication that anything not reprinted has been subject to change): november 2 2008:
but I reserve the right to reminisce and wonder. november 14 2008: "I think I've come to terms with the fact that I was just a phase. I've come to cherish my mistakes.. My only hope is that you look back on us with as much fondness as I do." november 16 2008: And I'm almost out.. There was a girl today who reminded me of where I live properly. In the midst of the worst mundane mire, she gave me the sort of smile you give someone after you've kissed them sincerely. She gave it to me alone.. In that half-second, she told me to chase my cosmic leads and blazing surrealities. She has danced purely around my thoughts since then � it is quickening to have a guiltless fascination again. Tonight, while I am anchored to the wrong building, my plots are born anew. I am preparing to follow the stars' latest map with my ancient relentless faith that this one will not sour. december 6 2008: i love these minutes before i drift off. i can forget all these hateful numbers that plague my life�mostly just that most painful one, the year. i can dream of holding all the lovers i can hold no longer�and the ones i have yet to hold�all at once, with none of the terrible singularity of actually being. oh five, oh six, oh seven�oh seven�and this cold oh eight. what happens now? i'll get back to you on that. a life should have secret plans, and i've begun working on mine again. december 14 2008: "...my natural state at rest is yearning..." december 21 2008: sensory overload is such a fascinating feeling. it can be miserable. i prefer it when it works out well, though: trillions of tiny pressing issues scramble for a way into your head, compete for bottlenecked pores and squinted eyes, shove their way in all at once. you watch them pile up, but suddenly some image resolves out of the sea of irritating threat-pixels: it's the big picture, and no quantum of stress can faze you. i enjoy dangerous winter driving way too much. maybe some day i'll lose it, but in the meantime, i'm too busy being invincible. when the road eventually leads to you, i don't have time to die. december 22 2008: almost a year ago, i was next-to-passed-out on the floor of petie's kitchen. it would be more appropriate to write this on new years, but i aim to be distracted then. anyways, i was next-to-passed-out and you were taking care of me. maybe you were just being a great person, or maybe that meant as much to you as it meant to me. it was so wonderfully surreal, just like the old days losing ourselves in corn fields or planting definitive steps on a barely-frozen lake or just driving to the same spot and telling stories about thunderstorms. you scrutinized the contents of my pockets � criticized me for having music on my ipod that i didn't know (somehow you knew). we talked like the strangers we were, still astoundingly compatible, but tied only lightly by the distant memories we somehow shared. i still tell stories about you: flattering stories. this is one of them. you are a legendary figure from my foggy past. you put your number in my phone. i don't know how long it took me to find it, but it had to be yours. "whenever you feel". whoa. i think i have to call it before you disappear off this continent, but i'm a flightier person now. i've developed a fear of phones and doorbells since you really knew me (you know you did). i'll deal with it pretty soon. without the pretense or expectation i normally hold, i want to know you again. i am finding my way out of this unkind forest, i think. i might know my place better than i have in forever. i'll be there in a week. december 29 2008: so, the natural expectation is for me to run home and write about it.. well, when did i start trying to defy expectations? i enjoy talking with you more than i can express while maintaining this weird spontaneous dignity. i sometimes (often) wish it would happen more than twice a year, but minnesota is far away and i don't have the wings or the will to flee missoula (yet). i want to show you who i am now, more than just the fragments you've glimpsed this year. at the same time, i could just sit and listen to you describe the world.. side note: why am i so disjointed? you did ask the hard question, of course. you said you wanted me to say something that would sting.. i wish i could give you meaningful closure. i just don't know how. i'm no longer full of malice and truth, just the steady buzzing wistful fondness. even if the memories were still pristine and i still had that incomprehensible will to burn you, i don't think i would have anything for you. the problem was never you. i'm beginning to suspect that you were everything good and right i will ever search for. ah.. more on that later. much later. like, in another life.. maybe the next one. definitely maybe. it was me. it had to be. i can tell you what i took from everything: i need to appreciate what i have. that doesn't help you. it was me.. i'll write you in london. december 31 2008: i wish you wouldn't get caught on me. i'm just a life-sized cruel cut-out. you were first and brightest, but now you're far and getting farther. do you realize that it will truly be transatlantic now? i hate that i hurt you.. i was young, dumb, lucky, and possessed of too much responsibility. that's the only way i can answer your question: i was too young for you. you were years ahead, and probably decades now. maybe that's a good sting for you: i would still cross flatlands to your door. i would sing in your ear again. you: first, brightest, lost for now. i'll write you. january 19 2009: reap the tide of our sweet missteps. channel it, but don't think you can force the waters where they won't go. we've been building levees then smashing them since before we could talk. with every rising breath, i want you to lift your eyes from the flotsam. lift them, then close them. feel only the water holding you at this very instant. indulge in it.. it is almost too cold to bear, like you always told me about. it is a bubblebath, just like you always told me about. if you must think back, imagine all the places you wouldn't have been if our old dam plans had held. if you must think forward, hold it in sweet faith that i'll find you again somewhere in some form. but if you can, just float, eyes beneath lids beneath sky beneath the spheres. february 4 2009: a single drop of the miracle liquid in the wrong place can ruin it all. "my friends were in there.." but they weren't. once upon a past, they made some words that made me cry so i kept them in the little silver box. i poked a few holes so they could breath but mostly so i could see them when i felt flat. validation as a pet. but it drowned. i can try and put some back together.. "how long are you sticking around? what's on your agenda?" actually, all three of them have green eyes sometimes. i forget them too much. i love them and forget them. well, here's to the next part of the new life that's forming around me. i'm throwing this brick away as soon as i can replace it with something new and fresh and blank. i don't have to lock them up anymore because i can carry them myself and i'm invincible. must charge straight through the mire without a stutter or a catching step anyways. 2:22 p.m. - 2009-10-31 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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