Sunday, January 07, 2007

getting used to getting on

dream
"awakened from sleeping blithely some morning, i am frantically but weakly pawed at by an unfamiliar person who appears to be wordlessly gouding me to take the whole of the ocean into my mouth. i remain tranquil but unconfident in my ability to do so, considering the person's request before ever wondering how i got to be standing on a shore in the first place or asleep standing up in the first first place. the person relents and i feel the standing sleep again, not before i notice the sun dunks itself into the ocean, creating a massive sizzle and steam, only to raise itself into the sky afterward. I am able to look directly; the feeling occurs to me that it is amused. i feel that it is a good thing that i saw this. i go to sleep and it is as if i am waking up, facing the opposite direction. two men in tuxedos are standing in front of me and one asks if i know when i'm expected. i tell them i forgot my cuffs. the other man says thats okay. the room has marble floors that are very very white, i notice this in particular. i want to say something about how white and shiny they are to the men but i figure that they probably already knew this."

my life is pretty varied and weird right now and its kinda hard to explain and stuff. i guess a big explanation will come soon of the all of it. i'm still the person i only know in a fleeting way, like the past while has been one, long handshake with myself. i'd make the kind of comment like, "oh, didnt he die in a car wreck a few years ago?" or "isn't he gay now?". honestly, i stretch past the truth here. hyperbole is the pulled part of the rubber band that snaps the perspective back to normal. i guess modesty or understatement would be the opposite of that, but i digress. it seems that after a real visual and personal surprise today (one of an unexpected guest) that i've been unprepared for the shock of the change and chaos that takes place outside of the little regimen i've created for myself; the little mental hamster wheel. martha told me that i looked like i had just seen a ghost! i really couldnt react properly, and i was genuinely surprised and quite happy to see her. That falls in contrast, or i should say, comparison with the sort of mental surprises and challenges i've set for myself as of late. creative, mostly, with a bit of a romantic twist on things as well. the former has found me doing of lot of work in a short time on the guitar and voice, and a lot of the sort of "knife-work" or detailing found its place to be done. final assembly, you could call it. we'll stop at spit-shine--hasn't come up yet.

now as for the latter, i've found myself channeling Cyril St. John "The Escapist" here in finding a way to be unstuck and move on with my stalled state of affairs with the fairer sex. they, however, cannot at all be compared to the paper bags which our hero leaps out of through feats of will and skill. it's been difficult, and i've found--in a manner of speaking--that instead of finding the way, i've just to let it reveal itself to me. that is, the way free from the weight of that volume of history. it just simply must happen, and no amount of force will make it so. it will happen, and those times when just the right person has said the right things to you at the right time, and that first realization takes place, the old skin starts to feel to shed. these times don't scrape away at the surface of those old memories of the ones before..but sort of revarnish it in a new, ever more complex spiderweb of wood grain. uh..i'll put it another way: it's like getting stung by a bee, really hard, except it feels..good. i guess you could say i've been stung once again, and thank god.