Scenes from my Real Life:
Mar. 31st, 2014 01:04 amFor me the birthday is an internalized New Year's Day. It offers the same chance to pledge oaths of resolution and embark on fragile diets but without the hassle of embarking on a mass pilgrimage of self-improvement. A chance to get right what was missed the year before, an opportunity to do what has only promised so far.
Today the hawks soared low over a quiet Memorial. They circled around me while I tried in vain to catch their flight on camera. I tracked their clockwise flight through the pink blooms of Eastern Redbuds and vanishing under the glare of the noon day sun only to burst as a shadow back into the diminishing gyre. For a moment I surrendered the camera, lowered my vision from the shot's aim to naked awe as it swooped down over me to vanish into a skeletal tree patch of undeveloped land.
And I'm reminded just what it was 41 taught me. My haunted abstinence without malice has given me an empathy that was lacking in the years before it. I used to believe every refusal I was given was evidence of a stained character and a celebration of those that did not earn the NO I wore. I believed myself, in the loaded words of old blogs and journals - "an angel trapped in monster's flesh". All very Ben Grimm tragic and what I was denied nourished a pathos that did more to thwart my desires than any perceived dearth of looks or charm.
I never blamed any of those who denied me what was not mine to receive, but I did blame myself for not being strong enough, brave enough, cool or confident enough. Then somewhere around this time last year, it all just shut down on me. The whole mating instinct process. Though to the world it seemed my heart had closed in truth I think some part of me was remodeling the interior. The book didn't help. It forced me to revisit absent friends and talk with some very sad ghosts in order to learn their voices again. It came at a time when a lot of my still living and present friends became very busy. At times I used my public voice to emotionally hemorrhage before friend, casual acquaintance and stranger alike. Feeling ashamed for my weakness I purged my friend list in the hopes that I wouldn't attend public events and have people look at me like someone else just died in my family.
Now, I feel as if my flight pattern is coming to an end, that at some point no matter how high I soar with eye along the wings of hawks I will have to land again soon.
Friday night, hours deep into my celebrations down in the un-staked heart of Vampire Country I stumbled into the Cafe Perilous employee bathroom. There written in marker along the wall left of the shitter was this message - "YOU ARE BIGGER THAN YOUR DRAMA".
I say those words to the circling hawks, pocket my camera and remounting my Baby kick off to pedal up the long hill while remembering to savor the sonic drop waiting beyond the peak.

Today the hawks soared low over a quiet Memorial. They circled around me while I tried in vain to catch their flight on camera. I tracked their clockwise flight through the pink blooms of Eastern Redbuds and vanishing under the glare of the noon day sun only to burst as a shadow back into the diminishing gyre. For a moment I surrendered the camera, lowered my vision from the shot's aim to naked awe as it swooped down over me to vanish into a skeletal tree patch of undeveloped land.
And I'm reminded just what it was 41 taught me. My haunted abstinence without malice has given me an empathy that was lacking in the years before it. I used to believe every refusal I was given was evidence of a stained character and a celebration of those that did not earn the NO I wore. I believed myself, in the loaded words of old blogs and journals - "an angel trapped in monster's flesh". All very Ben Grimm tragic and what I was denied nourished a pathos that did more to thwart my desires than any perceived dearth of looks or charm.
I never blamed any of those who denied me what was not mine to receive, but I did blame myself for not being strong enough, brave enough, cool or confident enough. Then somewhere around this time last year, it all just shut down on me. The whole mating instinct process. Though to the world it seemed my heart had closed in truth I think some part of me was remodeling the interior. The book didn't help. It forced me to revisit absent friends and talk with some very sad ghosts in order to learn their voices again. It came at a time when a lot of my still living and present friends became very busy. At times I used my public voice to emotionally hemorrhage before friend, casual acquaintance and stranger alike. Feeling ashamed for my weakness I purged my friend list in the hopes that I wouldn't attend public events and have people look at me like someone else just died in my family.
Now, I feel as if my flight pattern is coming to an end, that at some point no matter how high I soar with eye along the wings of hawks I will have to land again soon.
Friday night, hours deep into my celebrations down in the un-staked heart of Vampire Country I stumbled into the Cafe Perilous employee bathroom. There written in marker along the wall left of the shitter was this message - "YOU ARE BIGGER THAN YOUR DRAMA".
I say those words to the circling hawks, pocket my camera and remounting my Baby kick off to pedal up the long hill while remembering to savor the sonic drop waiting beyond the peak.

