Work.docx and more (the "so far so" versionS)
- Sundry Fires In Rain
- Nov 29, 2022
- 7 min read
Updated: Jun 25
Thought about letting the music I'm bound to play in the background as you read this. But considering everything that’s happened before, I guess it’s better to hold off for now.
After those 2 posts, I felt like why can't I have " " and spread out the content in Work.docx that way?! That would be fun!
I mean, sometimes at least, the question is what is "real" and "natural" of you? Real, in the sense that I know your self to the absolute exactness? Believability? That's what is obvious of you? Natural, in the sense of what comes easy to you? Either way, I feel like drawing infinite tangents to the function because your future self and the present circumstance conflict with each another. You know you're trying to reach that. Being an asymptote to it. So it's never still I suppose.
There hasn’t been a single day I’ve struggled to fall asleep. After these onerous modes, it just is what it is. It’s not like I’m burning the dance floor or anything, but this idle-looking version of me is carrying so much. Going through all of this, especially crammed into just one year, sometimes I feel absolutely nothing. Numb. Blanked out. If I just picked up my phone, hit record, and poured it all out for everyone to see? Perhaps that would do than this writing I’m reasonably done with. But then again, there’s that familiar intoxication where you somehow don’t even feel the exhaustion……so you keep going anyway.
When I think back on these last couple of years, I know I’ve been unusually resilient and unexpectedly buoyant. Now in this winding-down phase, I’m okay with letting all those thoughts come and go. But what’s next hopefully is expressing all of this more visually, musically, and freely than ever before.
We can challenge and change expected and accepted roles, playing in life scrolls, in our hearts and souls.
It’s funny and probably destined how the initiating, most critical components of a situation always pass through you. I mean, the call never clicks when it should. It connects later. As natural as that is. In pain, watching the downfall, reaching out to inform to pull it all back together doesn’t happen the second time. It happens the third. And still the greatness lies in the smile nonetheless. Even when there's that quiet fort of discomfort built by all the simmering soul. I’m holding tighter than ever.It’s becoming much tighter. But something has to give and something has to be done. For how funny it is...really.
Commitment to sincerity, a vulnerable virtue.
"Imagine memorializing them ages later when they’re no more...That's reverence. It's how transient things become sacred because I observed them while they passed me by. I mean, the Digital era has its own spectacles. I love it for its own reasons"
The sincerity of thought is emoted with pure love.
Misunderstanding and expanding like a hopeless elastic substance.
Many times, it’s unfortunately not about the reason that hardly works but it’s about taking your perception on a tour of progress. And the 'easy', blatant lies that hurt the relation don’t work at all.
You don't have the right to win if you don't dare to lose.
Being the real part of the PPP, i.e., push, process, and the product is an honor. When one's name reverberates, let it reverberate for something admirable.
There's nobody to question you cause there's nobody but you.
I fear a battle for the reason that ends it (perhaps, abruptly) more than for what starts it. The way a battle ends exposes the worst of our capacity.
You can let it go to the other side or keep it here. Situation is borderline anyway. Needless to say, every foot of effort gradually forms a fort and that's forthcoming.
I'm emphatic about how certain things just cannot be quantified, especially as I listen to https://youtu.be/OP6HdWvt9wk?si=9Guo1GPyIdO8gxpg
I still remember telling him, "You visually stunned me a bit." Obviously, after 16 years, you'd have to gradually transform that way, but here I was, meeting a new person. That was the mood out there. He felt too close to how I used to see him and all of that came rushing back. An ol' candied made a call from his phone… the one people nowadays see as too average, but frankly as a phone, it's terrific. He immediately cut the call, reached the place he was being called to, and then... here! That was as fast as the speed of light. That was purely quick and moving. As the convos went on and on, I said to him, "See, you're psychologically young, nonetheless." And he exactly stayed that way. Never losing touch with the good ol' school content, living and supporting himself to the fullest. I was like, "Oh, it's not needed!", but still, good one, Dad. And yes, he served me food like a grandpa or Gen X’er would, which is what I call : sweeter and healthier than sugar. So thoughtful. No physical drawback to pull him back. He even managed to open the rotis in that tight packaging without spilling any oil or gravy. As dusk struck us, once again, I said, "You're psychologically young, nonetheless”. And this time around, our smiles were felt deep inside.
“You just said it.. it can’t be anyone else in that place.” Right. It can’t. This new bit of information hit you sideways, and you didn’t like it though. You’d rather shut it down. Let me make a call to talk it out, ok? You’re already too stressed, re-stressed, and over-stressed about how “important” it all is. A perfectly indecisive channel of decisions hurtful for your very own self, a really good self that needs some respect too.
That sudden bizarre something (which later becomes just negativity) bottling up inside, right after the way you just talked, what you said, and what it reminded me of...Something pleasant, but not happening (yet) so it stings. Thorny or something like it. And the truth that I don’t have anybody but you to talk to, so I’m all over you, settles down after a few hours. Not because I’m bound to you in the usual sense (NOT like that) but because as things revolve in the mind, they make a kind of full sense I had been oscillating around. Time is that peep we’ve always had, which is either intimidating... or totally undermined. It’s such a lie. The kind of lie that gets swept under the carpet. I always knew it carried something brushed aside, or the so-called “forgetfulness.”
You can be cut-throat but you won’t. Okay don’t. It’s the 101st mistake, but still the horse is told to be held tight. I mean, overall, the perimeter is everything. We can’t really know what’s happening until it’s inside that perimeter. The monkey tricks can be set right, or better won’t even exist. Let the sources that actually matter show back the dirt they so thoroughly splattered everywhere. That’s smart and realistic. You’ve been doing all that. I learned that from you. But still you wouldn’t want to rob your words of their preciousness or your time of the chance to actually rejuvenate. It’s a hurt, shame and a series of both. I want to be parallel with you. You shouldn't spend your time and energy on cranky, cunning souls who breathe greed that sucks the love and bonding out of life, and out of people. They’re nowhere near old souls or child souls. They don’t uplift anyone, neither psychologically nor materially. But what about pure lack of disinterest?
Stay on the surface when it comes to people who don’t deserve anything deeper. And you are the befitting one for that line to hold. Ideally, who are you to judge who deserves what. Understood. But this world is itself a jungle and navigating it shouldn’t be treated as too ideal. But after hours passed, I couldn’t deny it. The closest ones hurt you. And of course it pains. “Ah, when will you catch the point?” I know how terribly inept the hands and minds around you are. And still, you uplift them. You forgive them. You go above and beyond what anyone should have to. And because I’m the only one, I get you. Go on. Tell me. For what you mean to me and what this means to you, imagine the possibility of an alternate universe. Let all of this weigh up on me, not as an overbearing burden, but as a present that pleases you and reminds you of me one last time.
If it’s literally destined to happen, you'd be called by someone in a deep trance, desperately needing love and belief in the middle of thick misery. You were called like that. And you answered like someone who’d already solved a two-decade-old problem, like a pro. This insane dream shaped it so that the caller managed to successfully enter your perimeter. And to me, witnessing that… that success… has been a reason to be grateful to you. Success, in its truest form, upholds humanity deeply and thoroughly. Victory belongs to the insane morale backed by sincere commitment. All these years, perhaps more than half a century, your words have been as terrifically true as your curiosity in anything. Staying within your perimeter is like being a mountain of strength facing an avalanche meant to shatter hope. And no, it’s nobody’s fault that you haven’t seen that yet. At the start or in the depths of anything, it’s intention that counts. Sure, intention alone isn’t always enough.But here, in this context. I think it is. Intention clears so much of the dust, the sick air, the fog choking everything good.
Why this? Well, what if this is it? Think about how to go forward. Moreover, the speed at which all the half-known and half-cooked content travel is laughable, sad and appalling. If you want the truth quicker, I prefer being late. No, you are not listening. You are ready to explode. You were always ready for it. I sure know you wouldn't take it. Some things, when they stay wherever they are, they go well. If asking just a "why?", interested in the reason and purpose, ever mattered, things would have been fairly transparent if not confusing. To care to ask the "why," reason, and listen. Have y'all cared about any of it?
"What is this for?" is one single question that cools down the hyper-complicated friction. It lets us see the web of threads underneath, the ones we never cared to look at, much less understand.
Have you ever wept (not for the blessings you didn’t get or what was denied) but for what you could have done? For not measuring life by what’s owed or counted, and for not tying age to what someone needs, here and now? You are precious.
Rolling over the grass, feeling the strange comfort of thorny blades is oddly soothing.
The dream that I'm grateful to, the dream that once again exemplified the invisible wand called willpower. A willpower so visible, yet so undermined, that it now becomes the rescue factor.
Comentarios