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3/26/2004 Hello to my three or four readers, who may or may not still be checking this blog out. I realize that it has been a considerable period of time since my last post and I have to say that this one and possibly future ones are going to begin having a slightly different tone than prior posts. Generally I've shied away from talking about anything even loosely personal unless it has had a political element to it. I can't say this is going to be the case anymore. As many of you know, my partner of 2 years and I broke up in early February, and the sense of personal fallout was immense. Total melt-down was one way of describing what happened. Other metaphorical descriptions such as forced reboot or rising from the ashes also come to mind but none of this quite captures it. Wait a minute...breakdown with forced awakening. I could go on like this forever. I'll spare you that. One of the reasons that this was such an intense experience for me (other than the obvious ones) was that it completely shifted my mental environment. Outside of my home I had the freedom to wander, to explore, to be amazed and horrified by what I found (and am still finding), to look upon the surrounding world with renewed innocence that had failed me for so long. I discovered light blue fissures running through my facade and purple rivers pooling into bruises beneath my eyes. There was an electrical field on the fringes of my consciousness that was filled with a forest of luminous trees glowing white but gave off cool vibrating waves. When I touched the branches I was shaken violently and thrown some distance. When I came to, there was an ocelot nuzzling my neck and purring gently into my ear. We talked at considerable length near a fountain and were both sad and joyful. It was amazing to find another who spoke the same language because I was struggling for so long to communicate brokenly with the others that I had come upon before the haze was lifted from my eyes. We drank from the fountain and grew tired and slept together under the luminescing moon. The piles of concrete impinging upon us hummed. We travelled frequently, mentally exploring and pursuing one another; we also covered considerable distance physically. In the process we became great friends with a powerful love. Now I travel into the hurricane and hope not to come back--not the same--I'm in search of the constantly swallowing throat which this storm may take me to. For my more practically-minded readers who may think I finally have come unhinged or dropped my last tab of acid please consider the value of storytelling and metaphor. I'll also remind you that this indeed is a very close account of what happened, so think I'm crazy if you will. Take either one of these conflicting statements that you feel most comfortable with. I've set up a mirror-for-the-moment at: http://resplandeciente.blogspot.com This will eventually become the home of posts of this nature. Force of love will either live on as my continued ranting/political commentary area or will become obsolete, knowing myself, only time will really tell. While my mind wanders my heart is firmly planted: Silent Genocide
posted by Nathan Hall at 3/26/2004 04:23:00 PM link |
