The feeling
There's about a half dozen various semi-related things: Perception of the Magical, vulnerability, openness that transcends simple Tolerance, passion, my feelings about particular individuals, my laid-back irresponsible ways, the short-term annoyance n' long-term goodness of Pain, etc.
But they all sort of blur and peter out; the words stop cold. Can't sustain the narrative. Delete File.
All blurring and boring because "It" feels good. It all feels so good.
The expectation of more hard work just ahead. The current running and jumping; making things happen, living volition hard and focussing intent tightly - all within the spirit of ease. The knowing that there surely is more pain and loss to come, cuz that's just how it is. The good times now. My "Inner Asshole" always lurking beneath the surface. All that.
The feeling is so very good.
I was thinking about the stew of good and bad choices I've made: that which serves and that which continues to not-serve me (or anyone else).
The simplicity of the metric struck me: I am who I am today due to the choices that have been made, same as always. Whatever may come, both pleasant and otherwise, will likely emerge from that same model. That and the little wild-card of strange Luck.
But I can't claim it is all because of will and control. That is just a part of the illusion. In a perfect Solipsist Universe it would be. But, NO, not here. There is more than just my shit in play here.
But we were talking about ME, weren't we? How does everything else effect ME? What has all this on the OUTSIDE have to do with ME?
Hmmm.
There are those who "make" my life through the simple act of being. I have so much of a connection and affection for these few, that they actually feel as if they are a part of my soul. Like they've given and continue to gift me with those lost and forgotten pieces of myself.
And that's why I do what I do; why I am the way I am. Yeah, in the past I've made some blind fucking blanket declarations and vows to the Universe, but in The Shape of Those Few I find the strength to live into those abstract declarations. I see the why.
As much of a man as I can manage to be ("in my worthless irresponsible life", saith Alex) has much to do with the way they see me. And the way I live into that.
I see in their eyes a reflection of I, and inside of that process, a growing creation. And it feels so damn good.
I do what I can to hold on to that slippery sand, knowing full well that it flows of it's own volition. Still, it's good when it's there. Soo good.
That is what lies beneath the layers of emotional mask.
By your presence, I am become the kind of man that I was meant to be.
To you few (and you know who you are), thank you.
Thank you for being.
Comments
1. i read this backwards... it was the only way i could for some reason...
2. yes, it is interesting when there are some people that make you feel your worth... strange that we need others to verify the worthiness of our existance. i can totally relate to that... i emailed vic and explained to her that i probably would not have gotten out of my current slump if i had not been rescued right on time by a strange collective of friends that i have always admired, and they admired me back... instead of being people that love you for what you make them, they love you for who you are... even when you fuck off the whole rehearsal by making fun of shit... and also being able to handle the angry with the silly... i ahte people who only want to love you when you are "fun" and fit in with their idea of what fun should be... or allow them to escape who they are... or something
Posted by: psychadelic fur burger | March 11, 2006 09:48 PM