A Festival of Language

Been readin about Shakespeare. Shakespeare: Invention of the Human and Will in the World: How Shakespeare Became Shakespeare both rereads. Kinda moody with a nasal infection. Once I get paid on Friday I'm gonna get homeopathic nasal spray. Big circles under the eyes. Had strange fever dream the night before last about Coachella out of nowhere. Haven't even thought about going, last year I briefly considered it because Jim James and crew were going to rock but why I dreamt about it in such startling gravity-hurtling psychologically unsettling detail is beyond me.

If I learned anything about the Alicia ordeal it is that there is untapped potential in the human soul. As if I activated the switch that brings about evolutionary adaptations my overwhelming desire in love seemed to catapult me into the stratosphere of consciousness. The leap was a bit much to take and got the backlash of my tarnished imperfection. Every day I answer the question, "Why should I go on a date with you?" The question in my mind past language is more like "Who are you capable of being? Who are you really? What are you doing to change?" Before Rachael I had only known disappointment & frustration. Her coldness & cruelty put me abruptly face to face with anger. In a flood the implications of war, genocide, bystander apathy, & everyday contribution to the socioeconomic nightmare took on a new strata of detail that was impossibly hard to trudge through. Every newspaper headline & girl that I could possibly fall for was like a knife entering, twisting, & pulling out slowly. Time, dedication to achieving at least a semblance of wisdom, & the fire to honor what I can of the childhood dream of heroism has at least patched the wound with an ardour that appreciates the magic all around us, strong in the midst of so much tragedy. I still remember Ahniwa scoffing at Theo who remarked that I could never be a cynic. I am bound by cynicism because I want to believe so much.

Growing older, the specter of responsibilities comes to bear. The only way I'll ever own a car again is if I find the right lady, we marry, and have a child. Every day I long for a job where I help people more, a little more financial return so I can someday have a piece of land where I build a green lifestyle, and I daydream constantly of owning a dog. Funny. This unsettling sadness that has pervaded the last few days is intertwined with my sneaky unconscious finally getting around to accepting that Amy & I are done. That knowledge has been there for a long time but has taken a while to seep in & integrate. Knowing something & knowing are quite different animals. Best not to get trapped in the maze loops of fruitless speculation. Still, my intuition opens up special awareness that I am not allowed to deny. One remove is a thin dividing line that separates the bird in the shell from flight. To develop some awareness of the connections we share with each other & how we damage with, our disconsolate indifference, the import of our actions is a terrible beauty. Righty-O, a right cheerfest this be.

Methinks the sun in the trees deserves a good look-at. Hips that would hover in some hard to decipher level of intentional courting ritual dance. Ah the grace of woman. The dream of love. The dream & the reality. Off the computer back to the page. I'll post a poem soon. Kisses.