Surrealism
Sometimes I get this feeling that I should be moving on, a little voice inside me saying I should be going through this stagnant phase of my life and on towards the things that matter. Going on to living because however long I speculate, those things that run through my mind are as ephemereal as what I actually undergo are real. Does this make sense to you?
Neither what you can hold at bay in the quiet places of your mind reflect or approximate the actual demands of your reality, nor will the significant pressures life and living can bring to bear on you give you any sense of respite the way they do when you think.
So where does that leave me?
To a crossroad. To a choice.
Is this for me? Can I really afford this philosophy? Do I even have a working one?
The webmistress of one of the webrings that I impulsively joined some time back took me out of her list, writing to me that, it seemed to her, the drift of my ramblings have deviated from the objectives that she envisioned members of her webring had to have. Did she want immovable faith, implacable strength?
I went back to my intro page, read it again, trying to look at what I was saying from another perspective. I wondered, did I present some sort of immutability there, somehow? What, christians never doubt themselves?
So, these days, I have time to muse, I have time to reflect on what I really intended to accomplish with this journal. Did i put all of these in here merely to display my linguistic bent, to garner the sort of accolades I might never had in the course of my life?
I want to find some mountaintop to climb on, merely to find a place to scream “I don’t know!” “What the f*** do you care!?” Wind was a friend. Wind would dissipate the rage and the anguish away. Wind, uncaring, would be my sole confessor. Wind would blow me away, where nothing would matter anymore.
The things I love, I hate. The things I hate, I love. The things I’d thought would make me strong are as water through my fingers — they are things intangible. The things that make me weak, these are solid.
I think I am simply getting old. No, not that. Getting old is easy. I think I may just be finding wisdom, and finding that although it is, indeed, enlightenment, it is also a kind of surrender. The kind of giving up where you realize that no matter how good you are with offering words for how the wind carresses symphony after symphony on your rugged cheeks, what you might find to say so eloquently is as dust you can never hope to lump together, spit and effort nothwithstanding, to transform, through the smelter of pain or through healing celebration, into a bite of gold to cover your soul with.
So the people I look up to, out here in the cyber world of bytes and blogs, they’ve all gone beyond me; to haikus that transform them into their greater selves, to significant sharings that complete them and make them more real than they seem.
Somehow, I envy them.
Val
Posted 25 Jan 2004 at 6:43 am | Permalink
Hi there. First, thanks for the visit to my blog and the warm comment you left.
I like how you give flesh to your thoughts through your words. Its as if I was inside your brain while you were sifting thru your thoughts and feelings. I marvel at your eloquence.
ree
Posted 25 Jan 2004 at 4:46 pm | Permalink
in some ways, val, eloquence is much a burden as wisdom. both are acquired, i’m sure, for the price of innocence, at the cost of one’s sense of wonder.
those two things, eloquence and wisdom, they’re no kind pedestals to sit on, even if only in judgment of those less wise, less able.
if one must grow wise, one must also work harder at rediscovering one’s sense of wonder, one’s capacity at surprise.
thank you, though, very much, for drifting by. :)
April
Posted 02 Feb 2004 at 6:40 pm | Permalink
first I want to say I love how you have this site set up to where viewers can select their own skins :) It’s really cool and they are all very beautiful and peaceful. It’s nice to look at. You also have a great way of writing your thoughts out. Very interesting site :)
Jet
Posted 09 Feb 2004 at 2:28 am | Permalink
I will not claim to have read all your entries from day 1 but I will claim to have read each and every entry you’ve written since the first day I started coming here… read them and gave my two bits, in the hope that I would be able to write something significant enough to squeeze out a reaction from you, if only to read something more after every post. Sometimes you would, and I would read those additional lines as extensively as I would your posts.
If ever there have been any change in the tone or color or character of your posts, they’ve gone unnoticed where I am concerned. They’re the same poignant, well-thought of posts… written in words that flow through the tongue rich and sweet as honey. Words that make one think first, and then feel, and then admire the owner of this site. Words that may speak of the most ordinary things but will still make one say, ‘Yes, that is so true,’ or, ‘Oh my heart, now I’m gonna cry,’ or, ‘Oh gee, that’s exactly how I feel.’
Once you commented on my site telling me that ‘I have such loyalty, even for a stranger.’ I’d like to leave it at that but to claim such virtue would be dishonesty on my part. Yes, I may be loyal, but loyal only to those I choose. I keep coming back here because, as I said on the very first comment I ever wrote here, I need to be back. I need my ‘Ree fix.’
I may not know what your purpose is for starting this site but, without meaning to be selfish, whatever my purpose for coming here is, it is still being served, and very well so. In that sense, I think you’re still doing it, and greatly.