Saturday, December 08, 2001
Thursday, December 06, 2001
With Eyes to See
A short by Wry Guy
I was walking to free my mind from burdens of the day, but I could never seem to walk faster than my mind. There are some things that you simply cannot escape.
The thinking, more than the walking, made me suddenly fatigued, so I decided to respite on a bench nearby and try to sort out the loud white noise that had become my thoughts.
Uknown minutes past when I slowly become aware of an elderly man staring at me from accross the path. Maybe not 'at' me, more 'into' me, and I sudenly got an uncomfortable chill.
Leaning on his cane, he smiles disarmingly and my discomfort and fear turn to strange curiosity.
He approaches and speaks kindly, softly...
"Hello friend, I apologize for my rudeness, but do you mind if I share your bench and a few words?"
Not my usual manner, but I smile, my expression hopeful, "sure" my sole utterance.
"You seem weary friend and in a way all too familiar to me. I will not ask you the reasons or details, but there is a story I could share that might soothe your mind"
Again, unable to unlock from his gaze, I mutter "sure" as I become dimly aware of the persistant grin I am wearing, a grin that I can neither fathom nor dispel.
"There was a boy" he said, "A passionate and deeply feeling child, with a gift for perception" He looked up to the sky, finally releasing me from his gaze "But he was also quiet, private even. It was just his way, simple and plain. That didn't stop him from being constantly frustrated by it though" His seemed to mirror that frustration for a moment, lost in thought. I wanted to ask him why, but before I could find any words, his thoughtful look became soft again and he continued. "People always saw less than was there, they would not believe in anything they didn't see and he wasn't someone who would broadcast his feelings. He would try to speak his mind, but it always wound up falling flat, even...too even for some, cold to others."
"Why didn't he try and change?" I sputtered, words falling from my lips almost as if they appeared on their own and dribbled down my chin.
"Funny thing about change" He said, now intimately pensive. "It sounds like a fine idea on the surface and can be at times too, but this boy knew his true self and any 'change' would just be covering that up and that's not really change at all. That to him would be mostly lying." He paused at that trying to find the words he wanted, then going on. "He was smart, but he also speant a lot of time upset at who he was. Naggingly and unwaveringly, he felt broken in some crucial and unfair way"
I only nodded, I wasn't sure where he ws going, but I started to suspect his purpose. The man read me to the core. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to go there, but I couldn't help listening intently.
"One day he was sitting outside by himself and a young girl sat down beside him, pretty little thing too" Now he started to smile. "She turned toward him, but he kept his nose firmly in his jounal, doubtlessly awaiting whatever inevitable teasing or taunting was about to follow. 'You're an egg' she said intently 'Huh?' his head popping out of the book he was reading, not sure whether he was being insulted or not. 'You're an egg.' he now saw she was smiling, but it was a good smile 'On the outside you seem the same all the time, but on the inside all kinds of great things are going on, I know, I can tell.' He looked at her, into her eyes, and there was such sincerity in them, such an admiration, that he instantly liked what she said. 'You think so?' he muttered, hopefully. 'sure' she quipped, 'A lot of people are like the sun, all their business on the outside for the world to see and that's fine for them, for me too, but an egg, like you, now that's like a treasure chest because it's so thrilling to find one for yourself' a very proud look appeared on her face 'and I found you, so don't try to get away!' well I got so happy I could pop. I tell you I was wearing a goofier smile than ever the world did see." He smiled whistfully "Lasted all day too. We spoke much more, but I am afraid those talks are none of your business" He said as he winked at me.
Finally admitting, that it was himself he spoke of all along.
"What happened to her?"
"My wife?" He glowed for the split of a moment, then a shadow passed over him and in a moment began to drift away as well. "She passed some months ago, wounded my heart terribly. Suddenly I was alone and I started feeling like that broken little boy again. I was out walking to do some soul searching, but mostly just wished we were still together. Then I saw you sitting there and that look was so familiar. I smiled in spite of myself and realized that I just had to get these feeling out, to share them, to speak and then I smiled again, you saw that one I think. Then I realized I had changed, I wasn't that little boy anymore. I had a lifetime of love and understanding and part of her is part of me and well maybe now I LIKE to ramble to strangers. I guess my point is, a person like that will find you too. Just BE and she will. Trust me. Then you can wander around a park in your old age and act like a lunatic to strangers." He smiled warmly. My mind noted the depth of the humility in that smile, but my head would not catch up until later, when what happened next would be easier to understand. I sprung up and hugged the man spontaneously, shocked and surprised at myself, but happy all the same. "I guess being an egg can be pretty nice" I said, falling back from my own impromptu embrace. "If you've got eyes to see it." If he had a hat I'm sure he would have tipped it just then. "Hope things improve for you soon, thanks for taking the time to listen to an old man." With that he smiled and was abruptly off. I wanted to call him back, but there were no words for me to speak. He disapeared around a a bend and was gone.
After that day (and you can laugh if you want to) I developed a kind of wisdom about myself, for want of a better word. People still didn't see me and impasses were still reached, often, but they hurt less, were easier to handle and were easier to understand without feeling responsible, or bad, or broken. As far as whether my true love ever did find me? I guess you'll just have to save up and by the book :-)
A short by Wry Guy
I was walking to free my mind from burdens of the day, but I could never seem to walk faster than my mind. There are some things that you simply cannot escape.
The thinking, more than the walking, made me suddenly fatigued, so I decided to respite on a bench nearby and try to sort out the loud white noise that had become my thoughts.
Uknown minutes past when I slowly become aware of an elderly man staring at me from accross the path. Maybe not 'at' me, more 'into' me, and I sudenly got an uncomfortable chill.
Leaning on his cane, he smiles disarmingly and my discomfort and fear turn to strange curiosity.
He approaches and speaks kindly, softly...
"Hello friend, I apologize for my rudeness, but do you mind if I share your bench and a few words?"
Not my usual manner, but I smile, my expression hopeful, "sure" my sole utterance.
"You seem weary friend and in a way all too familiar to me. I will not ask you the reasons or details, but there is a story I could share that might soothe your mind"
Again, unable to unlock from his gaze, I mutter "sure" as I become dimly aware of the persistant grin I am wearing, a grin that I can neither fathom nor dispel.
"There was a boy" he said, "A passionate and deeply feeling child, with a gift for perception" He looked up to the sky, finally releasing me from his gaze "But he was also quiet, private even. It was just his way, simple and plain. That didn't stop him from being constantly frustrated by it though" His seemed to mirror that frustration for a moment, lost in thought. I wanted to ask him why, but before I could find any words, his thoughtful look became soft again and he continued. "People always saw less than was there, they would not believe in anything they didn't see and he wasn't someone who would broadcast his feelings. He would try to speak his mind, but it always wound up falling flat, even...too even for some, cold to others."
"Why didn't he try and change?" I sputtered, words falling from my lips almost as if they appeared on their own and dribbled down my chin.
"Funny thing about change" He said, now intimately pensive. "It sounds like a fine idea on the surface and can be at times too, but this boy knew his true self and any 'change' would just be covering that up and that's not really change at all. That to him would be mostly lying." He paused at that trying to find the words he wanted, then going on. "He was smart, but he also speant a lot of time upset at who he was. Naggingly and unwaveringly, he felt broken in some crucial and unfair way"
I only nodded, I wasn't sure where he ws going, but I started to suspect his purpose. The man read me to the core. I wasn't sure if I wanted him to go there, but I couldn't help listening intently.
"One day he was sitting outside by himself and a young girl sat down beside him, pretty little thing too" Now he started to smile. "She turned toward him, but he kept his nose firmly in his jounal, doubtlessly awaiting whatever inevitable teasing or taunting was about to follow. 'You're an egg' she said intently 'Huh?' his head popping out of the book he was reading, not sure whether he was being insulted or not. 'You're an egg.' he now saw she was smiling, but it was a good smile 'On the outside you seem the same all the time, but on the inside all kinds of great things are going on, I know, I can tell.' He looked at her, into her eyes, and there was such sincerity in them, such an admiration, that he instantly liked what she said. 'You think so?' he muttered, hopefully. 'sure' she quipped, 'A lot of people are like the sun, all their business on the outside for the world to see and that's fine for them, for me too, but an egg, like you, now that's like a treasure chest because it's so thrilling to find one for yourself' a very proud look appeared on her face 'and I found you, so don't try to get away!' well I got so happy I could pop. I tell you I was wearing a goofier smile than ever the world did see." He smiled whistfully "Lasted all day too. We spoke much more, but I am afraid those talks are none of your business" He said as he winked at me.
Finally admitting, that it was himself he spoke of all along.
"What happened to her?"
"My wife?" He glowed for the split of a moment, then a shadow passed over him and in a moment began to drift away as well. "She passed some months ago, wounded my heart terribly. Suddenly I was alone and I started feeling like that broken little boy again. I was out walking to do some soul searching, but mostly just wished we were still together. Then I saw you sitting there and that look was so familiar. I smiled in spite of myself and realized that I just had to get these feeling out, to share them, to speak and then I smiled again, you saw that one I think. Then I realized I had changed, I wasn't that little boy anymore. I had a lifetime of love and understanding and part of her is part of me and well maybe now I LIKE to ramble to strangers. I guess my point is, a person like that will find you too. Just BE and she will. Trust me. Then you can wander around a park in your old age and act like a lunatic to strangers." He smiled warmly. My mind noted the depth of the humility in that smile, but my head would not catch up until later, when what happened next would be easier to understand. I sprung up and hugged the man spontaneously, shocked and surprised at myself, but happy all the same. "I guess being an egg can be pretty nice" I said, falling back from my own impromptu embrace. "If you've got eyes to see it." If he had a hat I'm sure he would have tipped it just then. "Hope things improve for you soon, thanks for taking the time to listen to an old man." With that he smiled and was abruptly off. I wanted to call him back, but there were no words for me to speak. He disapeared around a a bend and was gone.
After that day (and you can laugh if you want to) I developed a kind of wisdom about myself, for want of a better word. People still didn't see me and impasses were still reached, often, but they hurt less, were easier to handle and were easier to understand without feeling responsible, or bad, or broken. As far as whether my true love ever did find me? I guess you'll just have to save up and by the book :-)
Wednesday, December 05, 2001
Happa, as a person who's car was hit thrice while parked, I offer you the following advice and this advice can seem good or bad depending on your point of view, but it has served me well. "Expect the worst from 'people' while expecting the best of each person you meet." or as my lovely wife put it "I love humanity, but I hate people". Okay, so not the best advice in the world but really it boils down to how you deal with the things in life you either have some control over or none at all. You meet a person on the street, you can control that interaction, how far it goes and how close you get to that other person. A guy thows a rock through your window and runs away, there ain't nuthin you can do about it, except go crazy trying to find a way to control the world and ensure that can't appen again.
I usually try to create some kind of scenario in my head where I can feel sorry for the phantom person, like someone was violently ill and they had to rush to the hospital, not even realizing what they'd done. Now I am mentally in a happy place and free to then spiritually clense myself and pretend their testicals have rotted off. Then the smile on my face only widens...
Smithkid: Nothing but positive thoughts and well-wishes your way...
Now for today's creativity, and if I can be so bold to ask for feedback, because even a "that sucked and it depressed me" is better than silence (childhood issues I'm afraid, sorry, but there it is...)
The Water-Wheel
Worn, withered and warped, I turn in an uneasy dance I've learned over the years
A creak and a bend as my blades strain and move to relieve the perpetually replenishing load
I am strong and sure beneath my face and I hold true to my promise for life
But the water flowing is not my own
It's final destination, not within me
Reduced to the quick, all that I am is this:
I do 'something' with 'something', a bump in the journey of someone, something else
Never my own creation
I take comfort in a job well done, as best I can
Carrying out my function with expertise and care
But I never stop wishing I could be the source
That I could put the cycle to rest, should I choose
I never stop wishing my station was, could be, something more than it is
That it could be something more than just this...Turn, paddle, drop, repeat.....
I usually try to create some kind of scenario in my head where I can feel sorry for the phantom person, like someone was violently ill and they had to rush to the hospital, not even realizing what they'd done. Now I am mentally in a happy place and free to then spiritually clense myself and pretend their testicals have rotted off. Then the smile on my face only widens...
Smithkid: Nothing but positive thoughts and well-wishes your way...
Now for today's creativity, and if I can be so bold to ask for feedback, because even a "that sucked and it depressed me" is better than silence (childhood issues I'm afraid, sorry, but there it is...)
The Water-Wheel
Worn, withered and warped, I turn in an uneasy dance I've learned over the years
A creak and a bend as my blades strain and move to relieve the perpetually replenishing load
I am strong and sure beneath my face and I hold true to my promise for life
But the water flowing is not my own
It's final destination, not within me
Reduced to the quick, all that I am is this:
I do 'something' with 'something', a bump in the journey of someone, something else
Never my own creation
I take comfort in a job well done, as best I can
Carrying out my function with expertise and care
But I never stop wishing I could be the source
That I could put the cycle to rest, should I choose
I never stop wishing my station was, could be, something more than it is
That it could be something more than just this...Turn, paddle, drop, repeat.....
Tuesday, December 04, 2001
Bottomless
Perched, precariously yet persistanty
on a line of my own perception.
Swaying between horrific worlds of my own design
Too uncertain to cross into the black I have yet to imagine
Paralyzed into passiveness
Balancing, as my pounding heart commands
Terrified of droping,
Falling beyond my fear, my anxiety
Falling into the mouth of primal truth
Forced to see, as a child, made to gaze beneath a dusty bed at midnight
Forced to the left or the right
Or straight down
In the real
The bottomless...
Perched, precariously yet persistanty
on a line of my own perception.
Swaying between horrific worlds of my own design
Too uncertain to cross into the black I have yet to imagine
Paralyzed into passiveness
Balancing, as my pounding heart commands
Terrified of droping,
Falling beyond my fear, my anxiety
Falling into the mouth of primal truth
Forced to see, as a child, made to gaze beneath a dusty bed at midnight
Forced to the left or the right
Or straight down
In the real
The bottomless...
Monday, December 03, 2001
Hello everyone. Hope you all had a good weekend.
There is some potentially big news on the horizon, but I won't know for sure for a week or two, so I defer elaborating until I have more info :-)
Anyway, I am feeling the karaoke itch and I think I will make the trip out to Cousin Vinnies this Friday. I hope many of you can be there!
The Walk
I'm still, but the ground moves for me
Absolute freedom in motion unending
Forbidden only from the taste of stillness.
Days ebb and flow, renewed and dying from each repeated birth
Choices, decisions, paths, again and again
Words that form and fail or fly to the future....the present...now the past.
Sights seen in sleep or wakefulness or the roiling darkness in between.
Something always waiting, doing, moving, changing, a walk I cannot stop
Blink...Step
Turn...Step
Talk...Step
Breath...Step
Sleep...Step
Die...Step
Existence has one definining quality
It is always 'happening'
from that there is no freedom, no choice, no change
Not even when eyes can no longer find the pieces
Not even when the life is forgotten
At best the world can just pretend
Tell its little secrets and believe them
'They're at peace now, at an end'
It's a comforting thought, but a beautiful lie.
There is no end, only change within the movement
A step in a new direction
A trip from a different place
A walk that never loops, but a walk that never ends...
There is some potentially big news on the horizon, but I won't know for sure for a week or two, so I defer elaborating until I have more info :-)
Anyway, I am feeling the karaoke itch and I think I will make the trip out to Cousin Vinnies this Friday. I hope many of you can be there!
The Walk
I'm still, but the ground moves for me
Absolute freedom in motion unending
Forbidden only from the taste of stillness.
Days ebb and flow, renewed and dying from each repeated birth
Choices, decisions, paths, again and again
Words that form and fail or fly to the future....the present...now the past.
Sights seen in sleep or wakefulness or the roiling darkness in between.
Something always waiting, doing, moving, changing, a walk I cannot stop
Blink...Step
Turn...Step
Talk...Step
Breath...Step
Sleep...Step
Die...Step
Existence has one definining quality
It is always 'happening'
from that there is no freedom, no choice, no change
Not even when eyes can no longer find the pieces
Not even when the life is forgotten
At best the world can just pretend
Tell its little secrets and believe them
'They're at peace now, at an end'
It's a comforting thought, but a beautiful lie.
There is no end, only change within the movement
A step in a new direction
A trip from a different place
A walk that never loops, but a walk that never ends...
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