introspective periscope : peeking inside since Y2K ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- trash night 4:20 p.m.--its that hour. - 19 september 2008 "this old love has me bound but this new love cuts deep."~joan armatrading i think this is the same plateau that i'd managed to scale before, perhaps. i found my way, clawing at whatever steady handhold i could find to pull myself out of that depth of loneliness. this is what got me out of the house in the first place. it is my escapism--this yearning to not be alone. i am finding that i am more comfortable when i am not left with my thoughts...finding a new comfort in places that had no appeal to me before: bars, parties. i rediscover the things i loved before there was you--the exploration of the newest music, falling in love with films watched alone with a bowl of popcorn, my late-night walks and bike rides alone. i update the maps of the me inside, re-figuring what it is i love. i set those old volumes aside because they hurt to much to thumb through, to participate in those things--to even think of doing so--hurt too much for my tastes. small bites at this monster, small cuts in the meat of my greatest disaster. and now i have reached this outpost, this place to camp for awhile, to think quietly to myself whenever i have the opportunity until i get so introspective that everything outside of this cage of skin blurs and becomes non-existent. i try not to fall off my bike in those moments--muscle memory gets me home in the darkness, hauling ass at twenty one miles and hour down the hill from town to my house. but twenty one miles and hour is just a speed and i measure my freedom by the breeze in my lengthening hair--longer than when i met you, shorter than when you left. i measure my joy in the tears that streak from the sides of my eyes. with each tear on those rides, i pack it up and drop it off at the curb...perpetual garbage night for old sorrows. at some point, you have to let go of mementos because they'll pile up, see...become nothing but fuel for the housefire when the lint trap gets full and clogged...so best to simplify; best to let those things go. the thing is as i let you go and all of the things you've meant to me in the past, i am mindful of one thing: sometimes, as is evident in your own actions, we throw away the wrong things and i just don't want to make that mistake, too. all i know to do is pick through it slowly, as slowly as it takes. all i know is to rest awhile on this plateau between a ravine of devastation and the peak of fresh air. i will rest awhile with my mixed feelings until they've separated like oil and vinegar, purple floating on olive. i've been here before. only once. it is an old familiar feeling that is sad in its own nostalgia, i suppose. i've been here before and i will soon be ready... soon, i'm going to break on through this cloud cover and find new things. soon, i think, i'll get a good hold of myself. soon. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- .what came before. - .what happened next. a diamond at the bottom of the drain - 20 october 2017 |
||||||
|
||||||