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Mar. 9th, 2013 01:29 pmI'm gonna diary just to diary now. What can I tell you? Some things have happened - still haven't seen a robin and the snow threatens to be gone for the year? I might not see it this year, and maybe that prepares me for the bleak years ahead that are without robins and full of cats? Sure, there's the weird endless future wasteland that is cat-dominated, I'll just believe in that. Stupidly.
Last night, I was standing at the crossroads waiting on a bus and I waited for that bus and thought of that part of the LotR where Gandalf talks about the Western Lands and I thought - yes, this is how I feel about the 32. The driver was flirty and invited me to see Bon Jovi downtown and I declined claiming I'd seen Bon Jovi once in the 90's - which is not a fact and if it were I think I'd be ashamed to admit it. Some things are a comfort to lie about and some things are a burden to remember.
You know that remembering everything... I hate that, a whole lot. But yesterday Youngster Agatha commemorated her 10th year of life and I had what I believe to be, appropriate feelings. No desperate recollections of the lost moments of childhood, no worried anxiety about what might come. Rather, I feel, in her now, a permanence and solidity, as if I am aware of her changes and ready now, for whatever will be her final form. That kid... She's pretty great. Honestly - I love that kid and am sure of her and leave her now, to speak for herself, I don't, I think, now or going forward need to speak up for her or explain - she is herself, and I'm taking 10 to mean a watershed in this- that she's accomplished enough to tell her own story. So I'll do that.
But I do think that the Robin - when I see it, it'll be like in LotR when Gandalf talks about the western lands - I'll be cleansed of my cares and cured of all my troubles. That's what I think - the winter, it's always too long and this one had a strength in it that I wouldn't care to find again. Subtle and like a sliver under the skin, it wouldn't work out but only got stuck deeper and deeper in, like a heartbreak or a hangnail.
And now, today I'm all alone and I can't tell you how long it's been - since there's been this day - the one that doesn't ask for anything, that only exists to serve and please you. I'm the master of days or this one anyway. That's the feeling you want right? You personally? That your day is whatever you want to whip it into? That nothing is expected of you and your whim is the sole compulsion that the world and the day and the sun and moon will abide?
Last night, I was standing at the crossroads waiting on a bus and I waited for that bus and thought of that part of the LotR where Gandalf talks about the Western Lands and I thought - yes, this is how I feel about the 32. The driver was flirty and invited me to see Bon Jovi downtown and I declined claiming I'd seen Bon Jovi once in the 90's - which is not a fact and if it were I think I'd be ashamed to admit it. Some things are a comfort to lie about and some things are a burden to remember.
You know that remembering everything... I hate that, a whole lot. But yesterday Youngster Agatha commemorated her 10th year of life and I had what I believe to be, appropriate feelings. No desperate recollections of the lost moments of childhood, no worried anxiety about what might come. Rather, I feel, in her now, a permanence and solidity, as if I am aware of her changes and ready now, for whatever will be her final form. That kid... She's pretty great. Honestly - I love that kid and am sure of her and leave her now, to speak for herself, I don't, I think, now or going forward need to speak up for her or explain - she is herself, and I'm taking 10 to mean a watershed in this- that she's accomplished enough to tell her own story. So I'll do that.
But I do think that the Robin - when I see it, it'll be like in LotR when Gandalf talks about the western lands - I'll be cleansed of my cares and cured of all my troubles. That's what I think - the winter, it's always too long and this one had a strength in it that I wouldn't care to find again. Subtle and like a sliver under the skin, it wouldn't work out but only got stuck deeper and deeper in, like a heartbreak or a hangnail.
And now, today I'm all alone and I can't tell you how long it's been - since there's been this day - the one that doesn't ask for anything, that only exists to serve and please you. I'm the master of days or this one anyway. That's the feeling you want right? You personally? That your day is whatever you want to whip it into? That nothing is expected of you and your whim is the sole compulsion that the world and the day and the sun and moon will abide?
