aosid's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- - this frozen month, it has been a month of peculiar change - the action of abandoning action, the chaos of simplification, the sudden drop of serenity restored. i have killed such numbers of little gods in me. i have shredded their urgent cardboard facades. i have let the frost accumulate, let the black ice smooth my ragged autumn gouges. i have let the season in, and my breaths enter as peacefully as they hang in the morning fog. and i have remembered my places. as the nervous false porch lights winked out in this forever-night, the old hearths (the ones with always a spot for me) still burned quiet and faithful. these perfect corners hold no cheap mystery but the endless marvel of well-crafted jigsaw pieces. and i was deeply fortunate to see again the many sculptors of my current form. they were old lovers, mostly. the bodies that held them once are long dead, but through this detachment i could cherish the worn imprints we left - little quartz veins spun in familiar detail. despite months of fires and years of silence these pairs knew each other beyond words. i was part of this impossible cognizance. the robust fractals left me dizzy. and at last there was the turning of the number. it was a simple thing, really - no suits, no strangers, no kiss for zero, and hardly even a drink. but there was a peaceful freedom to the revolution. no plans. no omens. and now i'm clean. i can start running again and remember how to write. strum a little. climb things. learn how to paint. roll some dice. speak in french. the twelve has me excited again. 4:50 a.m. - 2012-01-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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