2B
Yesterday was as odd as any other day of late.
I spent the day asking myself a single question over and over. I'd try out answers and tangential distracting thoughts to their end, then return to the same question.
Wandering still in this "cush" room of time and space that I never used to allow myself; those nothing stretches of dissolving armor and breaking of the meaning of things. I've given myself more than my share of these open spaces, and even I don't feel as if it's quite enough. I sometimes feel pity for those who don't feel the need to gift themselves in this way, but the pity soon passes. Indifference returns.
I ended up at the beach (big surprise) reflecting on the shifting scene before me: the overcast sky, the cool breeze, the warm sand. The Question always hovering around.
Later while walking down the Gauntlet of Un-sanity that is the Venice Boardwalk, every image and sound and shadow took me away and back to the one question.
The question itself took me around itself, shattering the futility of naming and description... the pointlessness of questioning and yearning - attachment and distraction. Breaking down each word of the Question, each quanta of meaning, the meld of the whole thought-form, the motivation for asking until it became totally meaningless.
Still, the question kept re-forming itself clean, like an un-killable Mantra; like a stupid Jingle stuck in your head for the day because someone passing by happened to be humming it. "Hot dogs. Armour hot dogs..."
Finally, I came up with an answer that was a little too general, too universal... so is probably not an answer at all. No, it isn't.
So I still got nothing.
ShmerAngela came by to hang out in the evening. She's the best. She's always the best. Laura and I had a rare pleasant dinner at Islands; we brought a burger back for Ang, and Ang brought some beer.
Sometimes time passes so beautifully you only notice just when the moment ends, and the empty space left feels so much more emptier. How is that possible?
And today the question still lingers. Not in the front of my mind like yesterday. More like that cat you see near your house once in a while at the edge of your vision only to disappear as quickly as it appeared when you try to look at it directly.
It's a simple question. It goes like this:
"What is your heart's desire?"
Still, I got nothing... except this heatwave and it's pink-blue-purple sunset and the warm heavy air that reminds me of a beach in the Florida Keys and a time when I learned how to taste dreams.
This I declare: I shall drink a beer.