Saturday, February 28, 2009

I surprised myself...

Packing up a blog during a phase of your life when you are questioning its very meaning may leave you powerless to forces. Somewhat like grocery shopping on an empty stomach. You have to be careful with what you buy from the store...

Whether out of hunger or some other magical design I came across this post that made me pause.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006
They were only words.

Every time. Anytime. The words passed over him and danced. Slipped between the crevices made through the ages of his existence. Slipping behind and over and under. Touching him in places he never knew he had.

The whispers. The sounds that became so real. The aromas. Smelling the sweetness and mustiness of life. They were moving too fast to see more than the blurry shadows or the bursts of colors as they swirled in and out of his imagination. The words. Those words. He watched them play and felt their silkiness. Everyday. Sometimes once. Sometimes many.

Even as the words disappeared the echoes continued, slowly fading against the pounding of his heart. Slowly being washed away by the quickness of his breath. They were only words. He kept telling himself that. Trying to work that thought like a tool to untangle the knot that formed in his heart. Trying to form a bucket to catch the dripping perspiration of his soul.

Words. They flow like water at times. Dance like raindrops falling on an old tin roof. Burst through our layers and pierce the toughest coverings of our persona. They are gentle or brutal. Sweet or sour. Words are the thunder to the lighting of our minds.

Words. He thought about their substance. Elusive magical beings. He thought back on his childhood. He was captivated as a child with the properties of magnets. He loved the way that those invisible forces behaved. He laughed with glee as if by magic he could wiggle things by waving a small chunk of matter. Push or pull. Attract or repel. Wondrous little playthings.

But words are not playthings. They are tools of the heart and soul. In their basic form they record our existence. A stamp of approval recognizing our reality. A statement. A direction. A condensed form of our moments. Wondered. Ate. Lurked.

A sigh. A moment of closed eyes and turned off senses. Another sigh and a slow release of his breath. Releasing the feelings that had been whipped up by those words. He could not help but marvel at the way they scattered thoughts and light. The way that they made his spirit soar and revel in the magic that they revealed. How alive he became. He tried to dance along with them. Their rhythm keeping perfect measure to the cadence of his being.

He looked towards their source and smiled. He knew love. He knew life. As he drew closer his heart beat wildly. The purity of those words. The sensational melody. The power reverberated right through him. Shook away the frail fabrics that he had used to clothe his naked aura.


...Even as the words disappeared the echoes continued, slowly fading against the pounding of his heart. Slowly being washed away by the quickness of his breath. They were only words. He kept telling himself that. They were only words...

I surprised myself. And that my friends is a good thing.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Junk Drawer

I've been packing up and cleaning out "Blogin' Idiot - Ripple me this" and find it resembles a junk drawer of sorts. Things are a bit more of a mess than I imagined. Pictures missing... Bad grammar... Lot's of whining... Plenty of strange things.

There are a lot of years and a lot of thoughts packed into that tiny space. Common Sense says to simply open up the garbage and dump the whole mess. The thing is you never know... How can you throw something out without even looking at it? Plus there is the whole concept of it being all your own personal junk. You just never know what you put there.

So as I pack it up I have skimmed most of it. Read some of it. I have found mixed in the garbage some stuff that I enjoyed remembering again. Mixed in all the bad grammar there were actually a few pieces that I thought were well written. Some have replanted some seeds. Who knows what will come of it?

Monday, February 2, 2009

Echoes in the Silence.

In case anyone is wondering...
Things have a way of keeping you occupied especially when your mind needs time to ponder. My mind seems to be most creative when I don't focus too hard.

So work and family and home and body have decided that they all need my undivided attention. They have ganged up on me to stop me from having a long drawn out discussion with my spirit. It seems I feel it is necessary to determine some difficult perceptions on exactly how I think I should be measured.

I have shoveled a awful lot of snow. The exercise is good for me but my driveway now has walls up to my shoulder. I have tended the fire in my wood stove diligently to keep from needing to invest monthly in fuel oil. So well in fact that I'll run out of wood shortly and will have used twice as much as I did last year.
Anyone else worried about the economy and their job? I am working harder and bringing home less money and I am damn glad just to have a job. I watched Health Insurance gut my paycheck at the turn of the new year. To help meet the shortfall I have picked up some side jobs. Some weeks I am bone aching tired. I guess that part is so that I don't worry so much about missing my youngest grow up.
Times at home will find me in our band - "Burnt Toast" or our other band "Jurastic Wind". (My son got a thrill out of naming that one). I am of course talking about playing "Rock Band". We totally rock and it is totally addicting.

Of course even with being busy thoughts still slip into and out of my mind. I wonder when and if I will be ready to face those issues that I have been avoiding. Maybe I am still balancing reality with perception.

One of those issues is how I relate to other people. I simply don't understand the rules. My youngest gets mad when I press in too close. There is a personal space that he demands. There is the uncomfortable feeling of sharing too little or too much with people. I tried Twitter and accepted an invitation to Facebook but really couldn't get past the awkward stages. So many people that I'd love to have contact with and yet when faced with the opportunity I either have nothing to say or I say the wrong things.

So there is avoidance.
There is silence.
There is echoes of from the past...