I have so much inside of me, I need to get it out or it will eat at me, like a cancer, until there is nothing left, not even bones no longer my soul. It is odd how you can see some things so clearly, as though they are real, as though they will happen. Certainty is becoming an oddity in a life dictated by chaos. I tell myself there is a reason behind everything. There are no accidents. A physicist would call this elegance.
My mind so often wanders. I have ghosts, we all do. But there is a particular ghost that continues to occupy this piece of fiction of my mind, which persists. I feel as though she is mine, as though she belonged to me. I feel as though she always belonged to me. And now, someone else has her. She persists in my mind, haunts my heart, haunts my soul and I question how the world appears in her eyes and I wonder how she would react to the words that are spoken, unspoken, the pull of my hand in the darkness where I am unable to let her go, waiting for her to return to a place that she never, ever laid.
I think about a morning spent watching the mountains, folded softly upon themselves, seemingly at rest. Maybe at some point at a distant point in the past, they moved hastily, but now, these huge monuments of nature seem to know no other way. As I stare at soft mist, my thoughts seem to stream along the curvature of the bones of these mountains, up and down, and I am left thinking about the dramatic interaction in all of this. And, how I feel so small, so insignificant as I simply stare into this mist. My small thoughts and sensations are the barter for one day or the large price of today. The potential to ruin and wash out and waste away from all that lies inside. My hunger for her has actually been my desire to have what is in front of me now, but the past and my own stupid fear paralyzes my heart. What manner of man have I become?
June morning spent resting on the back porch watching the morning light slide it's way around the house to find me. I am sitting on the cold earth with a cup of coffee one cigarette down, folding over the pages of a book thinking about how i need to do the times crossword. Thinking about how I need to finish these books, how I need to take a long deep breath and keep on smiling. Watching the mystery of days unfold. The mystery of what happens now, what direction does today lead me in? what way do I find lurking up behind me trying to carve out peices of my day trying to trace out in sand the bits of time I reserve for quietness... I am hungry for life, hungry for laughter.
Quietly my thoughts move away from her, what never was. Quietly my thoughts move to who I am and the life I am determined to live, the man I want to be. She is a ghost and this pain, built on the imagination of everything I thought she was. What I thought I had is standing in front of me. The universe is elegant, that's what Brian said.
