Sunday, January 14, 2007


Years pass quietly, quickly, and coldly and it seems strange to me to think that this one has ended so suddenly and with so much malice. I was hoping for less, and easing of sorts, something to take the edge off, something to make the world return to normal and bring back the semblance of balance the defines the reality of my waking days.

But there was no gift to me, no hoped for answer. Nothing but the same spinning on thoughts and dreams that are both real and imagined, flitting through a brain that is neither prepared nor wants to accept what reality may be. I enjoy my daydreams more then my waking days sometimes. Who doesn't? What does it make us, though, that dreaming can become so much more important then the drudgery? And what happens when the desire to submit to the dream becomes more important then the reality that sustains the body in the waking world? I do not know.

And end to dreams perhaps. I've made a new year's resolution but I will not share it here. It is mine and I shall keep it a secret, like so many other secrets they spin and weave themselves. Partly secret dreams, partly secret thoughts, partly secret other things, and wouldn't you like to know all the things that I can define as a secret. There are so many and so few could fathom the truth of them all. That is because there are the secrets, but also because there are the lies and I will not tell you which is one and which half dozen of the other. Perhaps I am more fascinating then I seem because I make up the bulk of who I am. And it is far more likely that I'm honest about everything in which case I find myself frightening and disconnected with the world that waits beyond the dying embers of my computers glow. My own world beyond the rainbow, this thing I have constructed out of half living and half lies, full of so many strange and wonderful creatures and me alone in the center of it wondering what will become of me.

Sometimes I wish I was alone.

And sometimes I dearly wish that someone, anyone, would end it by being real and ending my self imposed exile fromwhat? Life? Fantasy? Desire? Remote dreams of happenstance and missed connections and nothingness?

Ah, nothingness. See there is the thing that I wonder about the most for this upcoming New Year. How much of it will be free to be nothing. I have a tendency to fill my life with things upon things. Drama, lovers, art, work, fashion, school, philosophy, visions, alcohol, and other distractions. All of these things work together to create the opposite of the abyss that I would be happy to let take me. I'm afraid to be caught at the center of some yawning vortex and not be able to either move out or plunge downward. No motion.

That is the problem then. Will I ride the eddies in the void or will I be the center, the non-flux eye of a storm that spins around me and will always be more then I can ever be?

It's not so much an end of the year crisis, or existential crisis, as it is an exegesis. It's not cataclysm that I spill out here. You can see that, if you are looking for it. It is what is seems, no pandemonium, no silly crux, merely what it is. The purpose to elucidate for my future self so that perhaps I will be able to look back on the changing tide of this year and see that I was not who I thought I was, or maybe that more accurately I was exactly who I remembered being, which is more interesting than I think I am.

I end this year with a longing. And next year, perhaps that shall be filled, and perhaps it shall merely continue until this annotation on my own self becomes nothing and worse for its attempt at explanation.

Do I exist if what I want to exist for no longer does? Or better, what do I want to exist for? Or better still, why ask the question, existence is too precious to waste it pondering such nonsense anyway.

Years do pass don't they? So quickly and bringing always so many strange things and oddities and musings, experience and life, friendships and friend endings, fun, drama, pain, fear, satisfaction and lust. I have no idea what could possibly make this coming year top this one that was last ending, but I'm excited by the possibility. I am nothing if not always excitable.

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