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Green Velvet

I greatly miss immediately engaging with friends and acknowledging their big events in a timely fashion. When I feel as if life has been put on hold, I go about everything as if that were true, telling myself I'll catch up with everyone and all the fun stuff and everything else once I'm no longer on hold. It turns out "on hold" can last for a few years at a time. Popping my head up and grabbing around for what's nearby before my head goes under again is no way to live a life, let me tell you. And it sucks to have a "friend" like that, too. I don't want to be that friend.

Going through the journal to find someone's name turned into a whole process. Not the archiving and sifting so much as the memories associated. I try to quantify then delete again and again. You can explain about a night in a dark, dank club with people in fancy dress covered in snow all you want, but it's mostly going to get tolerant smiles. And if you add in what happened to the person you held hands with that night, they get that horrified "oh, gods, I just stepped in someone else's tragedy!" look. You know the one.

As I read through the entries, I flinched when I noticed my writing transitioning from how I think to how I think others want me to think and I flinched. Damnit. That's no good. I'd started putting up these dumb entries that were mostly ego-deflection. Ridiculous. Not being in that frame of mind right now, it glared at me. My own writing developed an angry frown wrinkle right in the middle and glared at me. LSD use during pregnancy has absolutely no effect on the foetus.

It seems the more I lost, the more serious I got. Some part of the happy I'd stored up over the years was leaking out with each exit. Counting up everyone I truly know and then multiplying for acquaintances made me exhausted and very worried about the future of my ability to convincingly yell "Yay!". The people left end up with this dreary, scared, defensive zoo-ape instead of the pipistrelle-bonobo I'd rather be. Where'd all this concrete come from?

Oh, I know, you're reading the above (or not, but I'm assuming if you're reading this part you went ahead and read the part above unless you are even more weird than I thought you were which is a possiblity but, come on, let's get real here, my weirdometer goes way past 11 and you guys are already on the top end of the dial) and trying to decide if this is more stream-of-consciousness pap or if I've somehow got hold of something entertainingly recreational. I wish! It's more of a reckoning. "Waarriiiorrrs, come out and plaaaAAAaaay!" (not as much fun to say, by the way, since becoming a cultural touchpoint and corrupted with as many licenses as possible, but let's pretend we're all watching that screen for the first time and hearing those bottles clank, 'k? K.)

Several points over the years had me caring a great deal about WHO, if anyone, was reading. A couple of other spots had me worried about WHY. There was a bit of a kerfuffle over WHAT, too, for a while. It's not that I'm not worried about those things anymore, it doesn't matter anymore. It never mattered in the first place. It's a journal. I started it off with something insipid and then did that about 2000 more times. Sometimes it was deeper. Mostly insipid, though. The seemingly shallow stuff I liked re-reading best were burbling accounts of time with friends, any and all. The very best were when I was part of a small but tenacious roving party, and the entries from that time give the same puppy-eyed happiness instantly.

When picturing friends and events from the past, I choose moments wherein I wasn't embarrassing myself or otherwise changing the precise dynamic I'm trying to enjoy. This means the selection is small but incredibly choice. The filet mignon of memories, if you will. I see this person circulating through the room. That person running from seat to dancefloor and back. Chatting up gorgeous creatures and higher beings. The "I'm getting you another drink" shell game. Impromptu dancing by those who don't dance. Tipping way (!!!) too much because the 'tender is a friend. Marveling over someone's amazing outfit. Meeting up intentionally or unexpectedly at various events and being happy to see each other. I could go on and on (and have). I think that gets the point across, though.

This whole bird's nest has been building for a long time, becoming more intense as this year has progressed. After reading through and realising just what it is I'm missing, I know I can't live in memories of the past and forcing the future to do anything never works out very well. I'm pretty sure I can't drag the past through the eye of this needle, either. Denying the sadness from knowing how much I left just on the other side of "now" hasn't worked out very well. Trying to work through it with serious words picking it all apart has been disastrous and boring. I know it's about making new memories at this point, I do. I just didn't understand the whole "on hold" thing.

...while writing this, someone else's world changed. There was no "on hold" for them. Things were one way, then they were another. This ponder is about light-heartedness and glittering connections, how to bring them back and how to send them out. I can't deny, however, that the source of this commitment is based on moments wherein the world was suddenly bereft of a particular smile, a specific hug, a previously mundane greeting. It's difficult to scour away all gravity when gravity is part of the point. We never know what will happen, after all.

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
gurdonark
Oct. 2nd, 2009 12:01 pm (UTC)
I think that these reflective moods have their purpose--to me, they kind of enrich the texture of living, in a way. But I also think that there is a great virtue in complex people trying to live life in simple ways--simple kindness, simple joy, and a set of tasks ahead.
grace_batmonkey
Oct. 3rd, 2009 08:24 am (UTC)
That's a sagacious viewpoint. Definitely what this thrashing should be evolving toward. Thanks for presenting it that way - I'm always grateful to have more lights along the path as I pick my way through.
hardrainhigh
Oct. 3rd, 2009 02:36 am (UTC)
Do as you go. I regret waiting to say what I need to say to someone because I think that time will make the situation better or go away altogether, which inevitably leads me to feel guilty about creating distance between us. Guilt takes away energy, love, and happiness.

I still think about you sometimes, old friend.
grace_batmonkey
Oct. 3rd, 2009 08:14 am (UTC)
Precisely put!

Chaos detracts from stability, so I tend to step back when people have more settled lives than mine. Worried over timing, general propriety, or over-saturation...I over-think it, then wait 'til it's awkward for yet another reason and the circle starts again. Uh. Just like you said only more tangled, I suppose.

Being a friend of yours is an honour. It's always a treat to hear from you. I hope you're doing well.

Edited at 2009-10-03 09:33 am (UTC)
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

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