Friday, October 12, 2012

... .. .
































With the sun in your eyes Always mistaking The truth from the lies by swimminginmilk

maybe that's just what happens when you're most of the way through being 29. ___(i've run out of words). ___possibly feelings too. possibly all of it.
___i'm concerned that it's too soon for the magic of my life to have run dry, and for me to feel like nothing is worth... commentary , and reflection , and occasional replays-through in my mind.

i'm a workaholic. yes. i think at this point, there isn't anybody around who knows me well-enough (which is akin to saying: is frequently neglected by me) who would disagree with that characterization.  The problem with this, from my point of view, is that if i dislike my work, it saps my life-force. 40 mins on the treadmill feels like endless horror. i'm not inclined to meet anybody new - when work ends i disappear to avoid the possibility of social blahblahblah. i hope there's no one i know waiting on the train platform so i can get 20 minutes of solitude on the ride home. it might be all i get.


___*___*___*

outside it is sunny.
my laundry is on the line.
when i collect it tonight it will smell like everything i remember about my childhood.
___it will be a minor, tiny, miraculous, fragmentary joy.


___*___*___*

[sigh]

even my romantic adventures, which always thrilled me, are starting to feel stale. There is a great joy in being charmed and seduced by someone, and feeling your sense of control slip away and - it's a two-way giving - all the electricity that has to build up for a one lightning bolt first-kiss. Recently i've been thinking how being charmed and seduced might be too low a standard. Maybe it's just... kinda dirty. Too predictable. (Maybe it's me, i've gotten too good at knowing who i'm going to be taken with, and who is being taken with me... i'm robbing myself of the magic of romance). I can often sense it, not see it or predict it, but i can often sense something in the air when i first meet women. Often i won't even be able to know what it was until well after the romance is over, and then when i re-think about the first meeting that it's there, all too clear all along.

(
and poetry feels farther away from me than every before).


___*___*___*

THINGS I AM CURRENTLY CHARMED BY, A LIST:

- jacaranda trees.
Brisbane is full of them, and this time of year they all bloom. and every now and then, as you walk, train, move around the place, your eyes fall on the lilac-coloured-cloud of a jacaranda in bloom.

- sun in the wind. a view of sunlit sidewalk when you stand in the shade. the step from in to out when a blanket of sunlight changes the everything of as-you-knew-it.

- the Radio Dept. (the band). (bit of a rediscovery)

- corned beef and hash brunches.

- incessantly dreaming of the future.
or at least, the end of this year. a year that will have no requiem, no pomp, no decided farewell. it hasn't been that important a year. not really momentous at all, and yet, i suppose it has. sidelist: IMPORTANT THINGS THAT HAPPENED IN 2012, A SIDELIST: (1) learned how to tie bow-ties, (2) bought a house, (3) came off the pills. That's in order of how much pride i feel at their achievement, with (1) invoking the most pride and (3) the least.

- Rake.
Those of you who are australian, and familiar with the legal-scene in australia will already love this show. the others will probably not find it particularly anything. (that is, if you can find it).

- what happens when radio dept and sofia coppolla (aka 'future wife') come together: KAPOW!


___*___*___*

and so it was, that in the 29th year of his life, a man who loved life, even during all those times (the majority of which) he was feeling lost and scared about it, ran out of words, thoughts and feelings about himself, his life, his happenings, all of it. and the most amazing ball of cosmic possibility, grief, joy, love sex and romance, all converged into a completely benign, placid ball of fossilized automata about which nothing could be said. since it just was, one way or another, just was was was and could not be thought out of in to or around.

and so it was, that in the 29th year of his life, this man was concerned.


___*___*___*

insert characteristically poetic closing lines here.

:(



No comments: