Archive for the ‘ Love ’ Category

Streams of…

Over the course of this month I have deleted far too many posts before they could become entries. I find myself not only editing my novel, but revising my thoughts before they can be set down in what passes for digital stone here at WordPress.

The days that flow backward behind me start to make a strange sort of sense in that regard.

I don’t feel feelings like this. I tend to experience life in a rather more cerebral way.

Analyze, categorize; nearly always neatly shelving everything I don’t need to survive.

What does one do when the parameters for survival shift dramatically to one side or the other?

When something simply passes right through the oh-so-carefully constructed wall?

Analysis is no help, there are no tangible explanations for what is coursing through me on a now-near-constant basis.

I feel somehow lost and found simultaneously.

I could continue and list many more polar opposites that would add both word count and descriptors to this post, but I’ll spare you (my scant readership) an overly-verbose accounting of the aforementioned phenomenon.

Yes, I just did that. I think that it’s something we’ve all made peace with here at curro ergo sum.

Back to my quasi-ephemeral discourse on my current existential dilemma. Oh my, I absolutely love that sentence. It says almost nothing while subtly (where are sarcasm brackets when I need them!?) stressing the education I’ve given myself over the last decade or so.

I am, quite obviously, in a mood. Not even a bad mood, just a…discomfited sort of mood. My balance is off, equilibrium upset, my gooey nougat center slightly exposed.

I feel…

Yeah, I think that about covers it. I suppose I could delete the entirety of the preceding and leave that rather vague half-statement and it would still say everything that I need it to.

Gods (goddesses?) but I am a strange one.

Collage(d)

I had a thought while reading through all of your comments on various posts of mine – you know who you are.

In fact, there aren’t that many of you, so were I not so lazy I’d just dig around and copy all of your names into this post…buuuuuut I am that lazy tonight so a y’all will have to suffice.

Thanks, by the by, for reading my blog. I very much appreciate all of you who take some time out of your life to read what I write.

So back to this thought I had – shocking I know – well, scratch that, it’s more of a feeling. Some sort of intuitive, limbic system, four-million-year-old-hunter-gatherer-instinct.

Now that was a mouthful. Probably of some kind of poisonous berries if I’m keeping the hunter-gatherer metaphor going.

Never eat the shiny berries. There’s a reason they look so wonderful and juicy and delicious on the outside.

They might even taste delicious. They generally kill you in your sleep eight to ten hours after ingestion.

Sound familiar? Yep some berries are just bad inside. It’s too bad that they mimic good berries so perfectly isn’t it?

Such is life. We’re here to live, love and learn, right?

Right.

As for me:

I always learn, sometimes about love, sometimes about life, sometimes something as simple as a recipe that I still use to this day, doesn’t matter what it is, the important part is that it happens, that it’s real.

I believe that there is always a little piece of that person that becomes a piece of you, and some of you becomes them.

It can never be wholly over while we both shall live. It can only become part of the background hum; those subconscious bits and pieces that form the whole of a person.

Everyone we meet is a village, a collage-in-progress of everyone they’ve ever loved.

I rather like that. It makes me feel much less alone, and somewhat more justified when I talk to myself.

Everest, of sorts.

I lean in my doorway, staring out into the inky blackness of the night. I can feel the doorframe pulsing against my shoulder, as though the beats of my heart were somehow shaking the very foundations of the earth.

The thoughts running through my mind incoherent, a texture of slight madness. A confusion of my senses.

I wonder at the complexity of the human heart, at the physiologic response imparted by a feeling. A growing tremor in my balance, equilibrium a distant and disquieting memory.

I find myself many times wondering. What is my subconscious trying to tell me at this time, this place? I question everything, it’s my natural reaction to nearly every external stimulus. I can be very much an extrovert, but deep inside I am still that same shy little boy, the same unobtrusive teen that grew into the man that I am today.

In my quieter and most honest moments I can admit that I am still that timid youngster, wrapped in layers of extreme accomplishments and a bravado bordering on outright arrogance. I have pushed myself to love the most extreme of life experiences – to leap without looking, to fall with no fear of dying…but the emotional leaps are the hardest, to look through those tattered holes in my heart, through the filmy wisps of my soul and still have so much hope.

I was cold for a very long time, much of my adulthood has been spent bucket-listing the most death-defying, insane sports I could apply myself to. But it has always been to allow myself to love unconditionally – without thought or reason – that is my everest.

I always think in terms of the visual, when I say my everest I mean exactly that:

The air crisp and cold, hard packed snow crunching under my boots. Whenever I take my eyes off of those desert tan boots I can see that there are vertical miles ahead of me. There are no Sherpas on this trek, the only carrier for my baggage is my back. The trail is steep and slippery. Crevasses dot the landscape, some seen, most hidden under seemingly solid snow. You can never know when you will fall, nor how far, or hard.

Some falls break pieces of you, pieces that are put back in but will never fully heal or fit together properly. They leave seams and scars, in places the glue wears ever thinner. Some are no more than scrapes and bruises. Every fall weighs down your pack, it gets heavier with every step you take along the path. The lonely trail grows only more arduous and treacherous as you ascend. Occasionally someone will walk with you for a bit, shouldering some of your burden as you shoulder some of theirs. Strange, how you’re carrying the same amount of weight but it seems so much lighter while you have someone to walk with.

Your companion almost invariably leaves to take their own path up the mountain. Some leave with kind words and an exchange of gifts, you keep a piece of each other forever locked away. Others flee in the dead of night, taking from you things that you will never get back and won’t discover until the morning reveals their footprints leading away – away down a trail you cannot, will not, follow.

You climb ever higher, the air is thinning, it gets harder to breathe, to go on, to place one foot in front of the other. It grows ever harder to believe that the path is right one, that you’re not lost and walking in circles.

Sometimes you stop at a base camp, restock and revitalize. Taking deep breaths to remind yourself why you must continue on. Even though your path stretches behind you for months, years, decades, you still have not summited.

You walk on, ever alone, never revealing everything to the single-serving friends that emerge from and re-merge with the darkness siding your trail.

And then you meet someone on that winding trail, someone that carries a torch, someone who somehow rekindles your own. And you wonder how you ever felt alive before that moment.

I wonder.

You marvel at the fresh snowfall, obscuring all of the other prints, the light banishing the shadows and you cannot fathom the how or the why, you are unable to articulate the fear-joy that tells you a crevasse is coming and that you’re in no way prepared for it. There is no explaining it, you just feel; fingers and toes thawed, the wind no longer ice-cold.

The fear sets in, the joy takes hold and the peak looms just above, beckoning. Drop the bag and leap it seems to say, could you but reach forth your hand.

Charmageddon

…and the crowded room receded back, the music and laughter; stilted conversations droning down into a low babble. She looked down and said, “I know I said I don’t feel things like normal people do, but I really like you and I’m afraid I’m going to break your heart, or that you will break mine.” And my heart stopped, my breath caught in my throat and my mind roared down every path I could see sprouting forth from that moment and all I could say was, “Then let’s make it worth it.”

Swoosh

I can feel something stirring, deep inside of me.

Something I no longer thought I was capable of. Something that I had, in my infinite naïveté, believed was dead.

I cannot explain it, I suppose that these things just happen. I think it has been buried in my subconscious for months now. Waiting like a whisper, just beyond the edge of hearing. A low, throaty hum, buzzing in the back of my thoughts.

It waits for its moment. A moment that you’re never quite prepared for. And then it springs; roaring into your mind like a hurricane of thought and feeling. An inrushing surge of…wow. It is a flood and I am swept up in its wake.

Excitement, trepidation – neither word is quite adequate.

My eyes open, I can see the filmy tendrils of my breath in winter wind flowing forth; physical manifestations of that which is now flowing through my veins.

I wonder, at moments like these, what sort of plan is behind my personal universe. What it is that I am supposed to garner from these flashes of clarity.

I also think that I think too much.

Just do it. That’s what it says on the side of my running shoes.

Swoosh.

Un

I cannot quite describe how I am feeling at this exact moment.

I do know this, someone needs to change my iTunes password.

Seriously. Impulse buys are filling my purchased playlist.

I’m on my favorite top-step perch, it seems to be where I do most of my ruminating these days.

And of course as I am now never without my iPhone and all of the apps and music it holds; my thought processes are tied to the wonders contained within its circuitry.

I think I need to unplug, un-think, unaware myself to the world.

Yes, I know I used unaware improperly there. I’m a writer. But I enjoy verbing words.

I feel almost lost. Not in the geographical sense, but somewhere inside I seem to have lost something. Something indistinct and half-tangible. Yet somehow something so very real.

I honestly don’t know what I’m trying to say.

Glances

Sometimes, for brief moments, everything makes sense. Then, as soon as the feeling registers, it is gone and I am hollow.

I find that enlightenment comes in fits and starts; pieces like Lego blocks fitting together then falling down before the full picture can be fully glimpsed.

I wonder at the universe and our place within its machinery. Always the question is purpose.

It is ever the why that draws me. Stolen glances, surreptitious wishes.

Fulcrum

I had a way then losing it all on my own
I had a heart then but the queen has been overthrown
And I’m not sleeping now, the dark is too hard to beat
And I’m not keeping now, the strength I need to push me

You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I’m alone
And so I tell myself that I’ll be strong
And dreaming when they’re gone

‘Cause they’re calling, calling, calling me home
Calling, calling, calling home
You show the lights that stop me turn to stone
You shine it when I’m alone
Home

– Ellie Goulding

Good song, I like the bassnectar remix muchly.

I have had a couple of days to breathe, which is nice but still somehow feels somewhat counter-productive.

Kicking the energy level up several notches in the morning. Life doesn’t wait, it passes by while you make plans that never achieve fruition, while you dream dreams that never become real.

I don’t want that. I don’t want to look back upon wishes wished, now filmy and indistinct. I don’t want to regret not jumping when I could, never leaping without looking just because I was afraid of where I’d land.

I’m never scared of where I’ll land, I let fate handle that end of the business;
my job is to make sure I stick it.

My writing moves. It moves forward, now sprinting, now crawling-but always forward. Writing two books at the same time is interesting…I don’t recommend it.

This upcoming week is going to be intensely busy.

Bring it.

Reach forth

I should be tired.

Instead I’m wired.

I love my life lately. It’s been such a strange and oftentimes ridiculous road I’ve traveled to reach this time, this place.

I’ve had an unusual degree of focus for some time now. It is both odd and oddly comforting; as though I’ve finally broken through some unseen barrier in my mind.

It feels like a milestone I should have celebrated, but it passed silently, quietly; completely unaware I had stepped through a portal and freed myself.

Describing indescribable things is fun. I rather enjoy trying to place descriptors upon nameless, faceless things. Trying to reach into the blackness and pull ephemeral concepts from the aether.

I find it strangely satisfying. Or perhaps not so strangely if one knows me.

Just Do It

I’m awake and alive.

Such a simple statement. The words could literally mean just about anything.

For me they’re somewhat more complicated than the initial sentence reads.

There are moments in this life when everything dials down to just one thought, one feeling…one insane move that will completely change your life and the way you perceive it.

Forever.

When those moments find you, no matter how well prepared you believe yourself to be, there’s always an instant when you’ve got to steady yourself with a deep breath and then you have to jump. If you pause to think it over; to weigh the inherent possibilities of each decision, you’ll miss the chance to fly.

Today, I can fly.