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| august 2006 |
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| Night Falls 9 | 12:24am thursday, 31st august |
Night falls, like death, but not as so quiet, after all.
Night falls, room for wanderlust to spill into the bones.
Night falls, desire that overcomes me now awakening.
Night falls, darkness like a negative entity, more than alone.
Night falls, but even the endless black is not so endless.
Night falls, this world of form more like the primordial chaos.
Night falls, stark awake and slouching toward a dream.
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| Saints | 3:15am sunday, 27th august |
I think I have written about this before, but something made me feel it today: there are saints among us. They hide in plain sight, neither attracting attention nor shunning it, and so look like the rest of we mere mortals. They quietly do this good deed and that, mostly small, for these are the things that come about in everyday life, generally speaking. And in so doing, they invisibly make this world a better place to live. Also, I may conjecture that if and when some great strife is thrown down from the heavens, they will do remarkable things. Of course, these great acts are generally forgotten very quickly, and in fact, their anonymity is usually only altered in a small way. I think, too, that many of them do not even know that they are the saints that they are, and would laugh heartily if one accused them of such a thing. It makes me glad that these people exist, and somewhere in me, I can feel them out there. As if they don’t know that they aren’t yet in Heaven, and assume everyone is really an angel.
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| firelight | 12:01am wednesday, 23rd august |
firelight in my dreams, ashes scatter outward to all winds
we all gather around the one light; we are more like the darkness
i awake in the middle of the world, and know who i am
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| Growing Up | 2:10am saturday, 19th august |
What is growing up? As my old high school teacher said, “Happens to the best of us.” And right now, I feel as I’ve gone and committed that great sin, and consider myself really... adult. Nowadays, the word usually brings up the notions of pornography, or of those types of “situations” or language; shame that had to happen. It’s pretty good being an adult, I must say, not quite as hard as all that, really, if you don’t mind all the “have to’s”. You know, the responsibilities of being a functioning member of society, love your neighbor, all that kind of stuff. But I don’t remember when it was, exactly, that I crossed over. Now that I’m here, I can scarcely recall what it was like back when, when I thought it was noble to stay wild and unkempt, and not make my bed in the morning — the kid stuff. And I guess I miss that time, a little bit, sometimes, but life on this side of the backyard is pretty froody.
For my part, I had quite a long enough childhood; or maybe it was the adolescence, really, that I had more than my fair share of. It’s like the last time I checked, I was still sixteen years old, still a virgin and obsessed with the thought of sex, thinking I knew everything while telling myself I didn’t think like that at all. Very confused, but not really caring that I was. I turned around, and twenty years passed like no one’s business. And I guess I really don’t know what growing up is, just that I know it only because I’m here; you can’t imagine something like this until the experience of it just makes this sudden, weird sense. It might be something like, going from wanting to be great (or “cool”), and to wanting to be good. As that saying doesn’t go, I’d rather be good than lucky. Yes, you do run the risk of being incredibly mundane and boring, but you don’t really mind that people think that of you.
And yes, I do mind getting old, don’t get me wrong, but you know, I think life has things in store for me I couldn’t even dream about back when; I didn’t have the capacity for such things with that kind of attitude. Next time you see me, I’ll have broken down and bought a minivan, married with three kids. Or maybe not. But the thought brings not such dread in me as it once did. Strange, how normal.
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| awakened | 12:25am tuesday, 15th august |
as if i’d gotten somewhere
my mind, swimming like against the tide
(the whole time, dreaming like the moon)
i saw her, and evaporated
awakened from some ancient wondering
nonexistent but when she looked
to say how i instantaneously believed
all those existential interruptions of this
life, beginning like it was real
quests, how meaningless
myself, finding of which unnecessary
did i ever think some other way than this?
as if i’d gotten somewhere
my mind, swimming like against the tide
(the whole time, dreaming like the moon)
i saw her, and evaporated
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| Light | 4:10am saturday, 12th august |
Light shall pour from the sky, broader than the sunbeams of dawn. The sky itself shall become iridescent, like mother of pearl, or opal, like the air had suddenly turned into a thousand minerals. It shall rain wine, as if heaven had cracked open its most precious vintage, and not a drop was spared from sending down to earth. We shall see the faces of our brothers and sisters all aglow from the reflections of that of love, open treasures from within our beings. I say to you that this will come to pass, and not now do I speak of whatever woe is to come between now and that enchanted time. For it cannot end in senseless finity, however much we have grown used to the idea. Light shall prevail: look within yourself and see that you believe it too, however far into darkness you have traveled. However much you have lost to despair.
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| Motives | 12:02am tuesday, 8th august |
When did I start to question everyone’s motives? Not believe that there are some who just want to help people, for no lesser intent? When did childhood end? Perhaps I was not there for it, at all, that it snuck up and around me, and I became jaded surreptitiously, without ever thinking it could happen to me... until that was what I was. Do you remember back in the sweetnesses of youth when no one said anything that was not to your face, or that they were such innocent, the lies — no one died when you told them you got to third base with that girl who never even gave you the time of day. Do I remember correctly, that somewhen, way way back, that I couldn’t wait to get older? It is not that I agree with the adage that youth is wasted on the young, but just the regret that we got older in the way that we did. Like wild stallions, broken to be ridden.
I even have to catch myself at times, rationalizing that I want something for some reason something like opposite the real reason that I desire it. Has it truly come to this? No one will give you a fair shake, unless you’re carefully measuring that shake along the way. And even then, I’d not be 100% sure that everything was quite the kosher with any dealing in which currency of some sort is changed hands. Is that why we lie to the kids, tell them that the moon is made of cheese, that storks brought the baby — that money doesn’t matter — in a vain attempt to steal the innocence away for ourselves? Always in search of the Tree of the Forgetting of Good and Evil, to return to the idylls of unknowing... Bah. Humbug, I say. The next time someone tells me something, I’m going to take it at face value. And no one is going to tell me different. Poopiehead.
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| unquiet | 12:01am friday, 4th august |
unquiet resolutions wait at the door, for those things…
there is so much you have forgotten, so many dreams now blank;
always time promises it goes on, but not always for you
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| It Keeps Going... | 12:05am tuesday, 1st august |
Wow, August already. I’ve been in New York over three months now; that’s hard to believe. But I do believe I became a true New Yorker just last week: going into the subway, there’s a little card reader on the side of the entrance onto the platform proper where you can swipe your Metrocard. Anyway, I was walking at a good pace, and there was a little group of people going in and out of that entrance/exit, but I saw a little space between some of the people where I could go in. Anyway, I maneuvered through the small crowd, and as I was about to swipe my card, I saw a middle-aged man who was waiting to get in. I had inadvertently butt in front of him; I couldn’t stop though, since I was already in the process of going in, and in one fluid motion, I slid my card through and walked through the turnstile, truly not skipping a beat. I mean, I didn’t mean to cut in — I just didn’t see him. And it’s not like I made him wait even 5 more seconds to get in. I felt bad, a bit, but I thought: today you are no longer a stranger here.
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