tendentious elocution…

Bear in mind that none of this was planned. Standing in the middle of the circus and pleading with the crowd that everything is on the up and up; we are at the confluence of discovery, and discovery changes everything. Certainly, it has taken the better part of four days to put everything into a digestible format. Whatever faith can be summoned is inspired by a fleeting hand rapidly pulled away. While standing on the curb of Monday, I was praying that the battle of the closed-door-coffee-shop would resolve itself into something more recognizable as true friendship and moving like the devil himself trying to assure his most recent contractees he holds no malicious intent. Realizing the loss of a trusted and well loved individual takes time; everything is an adjustment, from the way the shadows play on the evening walls to the creaking bed frame trying to hold two bodies rather than one tossing & turning without relief.

As with all tragic & true stories, the ability to turn horror into comedy is a turtle shell; always available upon need & request. As inventory levels ascended, the comforts of humor illuminated my path towards peaceful acceptance of indescribable agony. Having already conquered the fear brought on by sudden changes to my relative safety, I found myself locked into the embrace of the sultry passage of time. Before I could even record the temptation of salubrious evening’s call, the smoke cleared as in revelation. I could see the damage of discontinuous arguments, and the stress that hid underneath nuanced detail allowing for such gross generalities. A shorter version of a longer tale… we can’t hide behind raindrops any more than we can meld into the scenery and fade away; you have to admit something so pure and warm can go to pieces just as fast as a falling crystal chandelier.

As everything began to rotate and spin, I fed the monster the only way I knew how. At times of creative destruction, you go with what you know. Simple as that. Trying to ignore the notion of cyclical involvement, or worse, trying to fight it, leaves us worse off than before if only because of the added weight of heartbreak on the struggle towards satisfaction. I found out my inventory couldn’t supply her with the right fuel. An outraged mind and heart scream to reject such simplicity, but it can’t be ignored. At base level, complaints & arguments & concerns trump even the smooth slick sensation of being wrapped up in the one you love. Bah. We survive to fight another day a battle against acceptance. As each breath expands our lungs, all manner of chemical process continue to provide hope for the future. The irony is not lost amongst the most aggressive, nor should it be. Breathe to live. Everything else (save food & water) is optional.

All roads lead to the couch, or the commanders chair. An old scent floating by as if on cue; an old hairband that came off during sex only to resurface here, as a reminder that we can only give as much as someone is willing to take. Anesthesiology to the rescue… again. With all precincts reporting in from scattered geographical destinations, the picture is just muddy enough to stick to footwear, necessitating wiping off of the shoes. However, each arrival brings with it the chance for redemption. Deep down, below the shallow smiles and alligator tears lies a little kid, desperate to be convinced there is always another chance, even if it doesn’t feel like it at the time. And then, the river water came clean and the mountains all sighed at once. The clouds looked soft and the wind kissed all of our exposed skin. Sunlight marked the air with a warm glow; for a brief moment, everything was well; transformed by the possible before we even knew it existed.

I would be the first to say the whole experience was not so much an elaborate wake-up as being clued in to the possibility that grace really did count for more than common courtesy. I leaned my full weight on it liek a crutch, ignoring any possible negative side effects in the hope that relief might be possible with heavy application. Is it a sure bet? Fuck no, but sometimes it is nice to be able to grab on to something for stability and not worry about how soon that stability will crumble. This has been a problem in the past. Despite my secular identification, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention at least the possibility that transitory existence is at least possible under our convoluted circumstances. The fear is not knowing how the two will intermingle; nobody relishes the idea of fighting back armed only with opposable thumbs and streaky intelligence. Everyone would fear for the future is expressed only in those terms. That’s what friends are for; that’s what lovers are for. Everyone here; we’ll all go, but we won’t go alone (not by choice anyhow.)

So what is all this? Too early to say. Watching the figure receding and knowing there is no chance to reach back one more time takes a while to come to terms with. Having never asked for any kind of change, be it venue or otherwise, I have to put my own brand of faith in the notion that somehow, someway, everything will work out one way or another. Going from shattered to fully repaired in the span of a couple of hundred hours leaves me calm, if still nervous. Finding the golden flavored key was a lucky break; what we do with it is all on us. If my fingertips no longer brush up against the body of my Terpsichore, the rest of me is just going to have to learn to deal with it. The spinners mover away, and my replacement forces appear stunned and enigmatic. This isn’t a battle, it’s a rout. I was just fortunate to lose & gain in almost equal proportions. It is a sugar-powdered haze of recent conversions. It is three steps backward for every forward thinking prospect. It is the honest end to something I’d hoped could continue.

Here we are again. Always easy to hide the scars, always impossible to get the scars to go away. That, however, is another story entirely. For another time.


15 Responses to “tendentious elocution…”

  1. Love…love..love this.

  2. Thanks kindly. Don’t be such a stranger! Still working on that poem for you too, but check back, it’ll be up sooner or later. Thanks for reading!

  3. And so it is you. Use of words and phrases not accidental. Heart felt.

  4. I was a garbage man back in the day. Never did cut wood for money, but I did think about it. Interesting analogy, though I would argue that all adversity produces beauty if you know where to look. Thanks for all the comments, appreciate the thoughts.

  5. Package sent, to arrive 13th/14th.

  6. Many fellas – which one I wonder…

    • I don’t know dude. But I do know that I thank you for reading. Check out the new essay. It is a bit longer than this one but surely you could get through it. Hope you enjoy it duder.

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