Love

The sun stared, lidless and relentless, down at the dust and sand I slowly traversed. The town that baked there was hardly deserving of any name connoting civilization, much less that desert wayfarer’s dream-word, “oasis”. No waving palm trees; no pools of cool water to waste on dry and cracked feet. Still, to anyone like myself who had somehow survived even a brief stay in the arid deserts (in the quest for companionship), the low huts that provided shade were as welcome as Eden itself. I sat down against a wall in the center of the town. No one moved about in the heat of the day; for all I knew, the entire town had been wiped out by a sandstorm. I lowered my head and fell instantly asleep.

Point A: Martini, Headphones on, Headphones off, Glass table, ticking Clock, curious Hope, sneaking Glances | | | 20' | | v Point B: Two people hanging over Space, City noise, A man telling a woman he Loves her, A Pure smile, Decades

As I noted in my Greece / Prague travelogue, I kept a list on my recent trip to Europe, which I named “Things That Are True”. Disappointingly, the content of the list had little to do with philosophical truths or anything which would be of interest to your average human; instead, this was a list of things that were true mostly concerning myself (with the occasional random observation). It was a special list more because of the concise nature of the statements, the self-perception achieved, and the relatively high degree of honesty. So what follows is a very incomplete but nonetheless good summary of, actually, my identity as it currently stands, phrased in terms of struggles, loves, hopes, observations, and more. Here it is, exactly as I wrote it out over the 10-day adventure (any editorial additions or comments will be italicized and in brackets):

Some random experiences from a few days in the Bahamas (from which I am now in the process of returning) spawned this poem, which spilled edit-free from my pen yesterday: Shapes in clear water when moving are blurred and the fuzz provides fear For unknown says death's always seeking and will in the end become near So sun and life soon are forgotten if only for a space of seconds Heart and mind illusion-smitten propel the soul back to the sands From the shore heartbeats are slower Embarrassment looks like the heat of the day The water is clear, it seems fear need not tower O'er a reckless rejoining the fray But horizon reveals, dark symbols appear Omens or fins? both blacker than sky Recklessness checked, the imagined is here It seems a more rational soul would have died

Once upon a time, there was a king who lived in a castle in the mountains. The king loved his castle more than anything else in the world, and all the people who lived there took pride in it as well. Not only did it provide protection against enemies and a sense of shared identity for those within its walls, it was quite possibly the most majestic castle ever constructed. On a clear day, the sight of the castle’s sparkling, sun-dazzled walls and its boldly colored turrets was wonderful to behold, and the sound of its many pennants snapping joyfully in the brisk wind was prone to making people’s hearts beat faster. The king loved his castle for all of these reasons, but more still because its splendor was such a far cry from the squalor of the mountain village he had inherited. The king and his people had been an unimportant and crude tribe not so long ago, but through his rule and because of his wisdom, a beautiful castle with bustling markets and many artisans was his people’s legacy.

I’m in something of a bad state right now, and I’m not sure exactly how I got here or what to do about it. I’m not even going to attempt my typical philosophical analysis, partly because of apathy and partly because I’m pretty sure it won’t help. Instead, I’m going to use over-dramatic words to deliver a sense of what I am feeling. You may want to stop reading now.

After the pretty meaningful birthdays of 18 and 21 (at which points my tobacco- and alcohol-related habits were legalized), I’m beginning to realize how much you start to forget about your own birthdays. For instance, mine just snuck up on me. I hadn’t really thought about it that much, apart from wondering if some people should get together or something; but that’s not what I’m talking about. More the sense of anticipation, that pre-Christmas excitement that used to attend the days and weeks before a birthday…that sense was completely and finally gone this year. It’s now September 26 and there is no elation, no feeling of the specialness of the day. It’s sad, I guess, but part of the whole thing is that I don’t really care that it’s sad. Last year may have been the same, except we had a hurricane on my birthday so that made things exciting anyhow. So while September 26 is no longer a cause for unbridled joy and wondering if I may have some good presents waiting, it is of course a good excuse to do things like take a midnight shot of sub-30-degree vodka. Mmmm.

I have been looking for love (and lamenting my lack of it, in terms of the females) so intensely recently, that in a superbly dismaying irony, I have actually been un loving those around me [yes, that was a transitive verb]. I have been withdrawn, aloof, sarcastic, ungentle, and careless in my interactions with my community, and I was so wrapped up in myself, so enjoying my melancholy depression, that I didn’t even notice until someone called me out on it last night. ...