Monday, June 23, 2008

The Kindness of (relative) Strangers

So I had to leave a wee drop of inappropriate commentary here because - well, it was there. I had to do it. But I was surprised by the kind response that followed because, in fact, what we have here is not my best stuff. Not at all.

No, I had a way with words once. But it demanded a great deal of me. Nearly all of me, to be precise. It was an unending torrent of finely honed terror and despair. Quite the muse, really. Particularly when fueled with expensive wine. If one must be a sot, let it be on the finest that one can afford.

Too, it wasn't fit for public consumption - the language, I mean. The content. It was soul rending and Warts and all, as they say. But it was cathartic in its own way. I had to work through it, that loss. That double loss. I had to plunge to the bottom and sit awhile. I needed to stand on that immortal shore and decide. I chose - and then struggled to the surface. With the air came the need to express it all. That journey - like Persephone's - requires a return trip now and then to pay the toll.

I don't succumb as often to that siren song. Not in a long time have I fallen. So I do tend to keep one eye open for it. But it seems so...selfish, now. All that navel gazing. All those words wound round to explain a thing that matters, now, to no one living. No one but me, of course. And it is history.

Still, inside us all reside our tales, our myths. They make us who we are. Some tales are horrid and come with a stench that is hard to bear. Others are sweet and brought out often to reinforce our lives when times are tough. But I cannot, as others do, let them go. Ephemera of the mind filed away...

At any rate, what I mean to say is that this place is edited. I am nothing like anonymous here. And I want nothing to reflect badly on Trooper so I am judicious. Which may surprise you if something here has disturbed you in the past.

I strive these days to focus on what Is. What Will Be. Perhaps because I am old - older, at any rate - and haven't time to wallow in seductive depths. And they are seductive. Never doubt that I turn away from it every day like I do cigarettes. Each day I could pick up the habit again. Each day demands that I do not.

So I suppose this is to say I am sorry. I wish I could regale you with those tales, shower you with those words and phrases that would seduce you as they do me. You shall, instead, have to bear up under the brunt of cryptic music video selections, wierd movie connections, and international intrigues.

Think of it this way - at least you don't have to clean up the keyboard afterward, no?

I don't now, right? Right?!

Well, other than V-man. He's like the apes in the zoo and must be forgiven his peccadillos.

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