Day: September 20, 2004

If I manage to laugh today off, I will be very surprised.
Unheard of possibility.

I did something once that I called Remembering How To Smile, though, in fact, I’d never known. Without knowing how I did it, there was no fear anymore. I got the Life, the Walk, the Everything. The butterfly emerged with knives out and glittering. This was Mine. Refreshed, I was part of myself for the first time in my life. It’s glorious, the strength of being self. I scared people for months afterwards, like to look into my eyes was to see fire.
It’s been faded for a long time, but I feel it returning. I can proclaim and I can fly.

I’m discovering people give me much credit I do not deserve. “Of course, you’re You! Why are you surprised?” I never knew. I am not as anything wise as I am accused of. Told that my actions and thought are admired, I am lost. I am not special. I am not unique. The Dance you so desire isn’t purposeful. It happens. That people say I should know better, that I should assume and expect a certain kind of chaos and joy, this is somehow a new thing. Information I was ignorant of yet tying into that feeling. That flood of being everything without thinking about it.

Part of it feels like acting. Partially it’s a widening of self. I don’t know if I can do it, but I do. I push and find no barrier. I create a space with my false confidence and eventually fill it on the assumption that I can. Bravado constantly cycling into the real.

I have been startled. I do not say Yes.

Tonight I had a fabulous dinner with Silva. Tomorrow I go to Seattle with Alistair.
How about you and me, reader, we go hold hands somewhere we can’t be laughed at?

Today I either want to be hurt or I want to be in love. I want emotion to sweep through me and lift me and tear and throw me down on the cement street to lie crumpled with my heart in my hands. For once it’s not raining. Forever this buries me, forever etching itself on my skin. It’s warm and quiet here, like a bath lit by candles at night. It’s not what I want. I want lightning and you taking my hands to dance. I think if I were to add your name to my list of phonenumbers, it would look like it had always been there. The ink would have just that tiniest smudge that says countless times a thumb has rested there. Give me a cruel wind today. Give me a letter the size of your fist. Give me the moment of rock crashing into water.

I’m waiting for Robin to arrive after school. Today is a day for the Boy. Teaching him culture and behaviour twice a week. I’m not worthy to be attempting to show such things to a developing mind. Usually I would take him to the poetry slam, but I haven’t been going the past couple of months. The room seems unwelcome somehow, with it’s crowded heat and whistling. I know I would enjoy my time, but there’s something grabbing my arm, keeping me back. It’s time to find a new thing again. My friend on stage, looking at me very carefully before launching into a love poem that wins him the evening. I don’t need that. Don’t you dare give me power. Don’t. You. Dare.

Starships should exist today. I should hear a rumble and look out my window to watch cloud white trail following a silver missile growling into the sky. I see now I ruined myself reading science fiction. I want my future and I suspect by the time it comes, I will be too old. Here’s looking at you kids, celebrate that you will know the moon as more than a mythology. I read recently that Buzz Aldrin decked someone that accused him of being part of a faked moonlanding conspiracy. He was weightless for the first time since the seventies just this week. What could that be like? Revisiting the future, the past. Every generation having a moment of “I know where I was when this happened”. Pity mine has to be the Towers. I want mine to be a colony. I want mine to be a shining spindle reflecting starlight. I want mine to be dirty and dangerous and strong.

I was up all night chatting with Jason. Interesting and good company so far. Always suspected as much, really. I had to stay up to babysit my downloader. I threw open almost my entire collection to be downloaded by the world for a fellow named Joey in North Carolina. The grinding from the tower was phenomenal. It seems that what I have is sorely collectable. It finally crashed at four in the morning. When I say crashed, I quite mean it. I had to re-install my downloader.

*blank* Just now I remember too late that the close of the Fringe Party was last night. Oh holy hell. Work really shut down the brain last night. I’ve been talking for about twelve hours with the internet and the only sound to escape me has been laughter. Now? Insert loud swearing. Extremly pissed off cursing with terms that would scorch earth in a more narrative driven universe. Take frustration and mix it with self idiocy and bake it until it is made of iron. Now drop it on your exposed brain. I can hear myself crying.

Mystery hatred in my own bloody mind. I think I just burned a hell damned bridge.