So Many Words
Aug. 9th, 2007 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormThe conventional image is that of a dam bursting. Have you ever seen a dam burst? Looking down on the fireworks from a high building as the people trickle from the beach down the streets, running in a huge swell along Denman and then Robson streets, that may be more accurate anyway. It's a long swell of words that comes out now.
I hadn't written much in here about people I love, and how much I love them, and how wonderful they are, because I was afraid of it hurting Juggler when he read it. Now I'm not feeling so constrained. I like that.
Today I took my crimson eye in to the doctor, and he said it was normal for my level of emo-ness. No big problem, contacts okay to wear if they don't feel weird. He did a couple of tests, I think to reassure me more than anything. I like having blood in my eye, but I guess that's been enough drama for now. On with life.
I had a real date with Bob tonight-- dinner and a movie (Dirty Dancing, which I'd never watched before. I am in such dance withdrawal from missing karaoke last night. There *will be* dancing at my birthday party, even if all the dance-y people are away at Shambhala). It was super-awesome. It's so important to leave the house, leave the domestic stuff and the cleaning and the habits, and to spend time just sitting, to talk. Not to Talk, just to chat, to go back and forth about how sound works in different venues, which guitar Bob wants to buy next, how awesome my friends are, who gets my baby rats, and how I feel about the recent breakup. It reminds me of the dates Kynnin and I used to have, in Abbotsford, walking down the hill to Ethical Addictions for coffee or a meal by the fire. You know, just out of the house? He also got me to the doctor. I hate doctors.
This is settling into such a comfortable familiarity. We still feel like a good match to me, especially now that I've come down out of the tree I was in earlier this week. I am so glad. I always have the urge to do the scorched earth thing when I'm stressed or unhappy, because it simplifies interpersonal issues so much if you just remove the people, but of course that's just the crazy talking.
I hadn't realised how long it's been since I just relaxed and responded in kind to bits of fun from him. I'm not back there yet, but I will be soon.
I also keep thinking about Angus-- of course. New toy, dimples like the sun coming up, smells like carrots and geraniums. I love the way he's so colourfully and interestingly decorated all over (yes, those are all different links). People are definitely my vice.
To use another terrible metaphor (because what use is a metaphor if neither the writer nor the reader has actually done the thing?) the people in my life are sometimes like a rosary, little fragments of thought or memory polished from handling and slipped one by one through my mind when I need focus, and calm. I cherish these memories so much: Bob standing unsteady-drunk in the door at Sin City when we met, or looking so worried when I was upset the next morning; the morning light spilling in through the tiny octagonal windows in the livingroom on Juggler and I after we'd lain awake all night talking, with Mouse and Kynnin in the bedroom and us on the futon mattress on the floor; CrazyChris' voice, no specific words but that so-emphatic, confident debating tone he uses; Tillie kneeling in front of the fireplace in Burnaby, stacking things inside or the first time I met her at a Christmas party, perched on the edge of a couch wearing a red skirt; Angus years ago on the 20 bus at night, dimples radiant; Avi sitting on the sofa looking determined and worried and older than I've seen him look; Eva slipping down a sidepath towards a bench surrounded by ducks; Trevor on the schoolbus, so long ago, his spikes sticking up past the brown vinyl every morning as I walked down the aisle; my cousin Joe sucking on the edge of his water glass more than a decade ago... it goes on, and on, and on. There are so many precious moments, tiny gestures, and little shared bridges of time that I joy in remembering.
And now I am tired. Goodnight.
I hadn't written much in here about people I love, and how much I love them, and how wonderful they are, because I was afraid of it hurting Juggler when he read it. Now I'm not feeling so constrained. I like that.
Today I took my crimson eye in to the doctor, and he said it was normal for my level of emo-ness. No big problem, contacts okay to wear if they don't feel weird. He did a couple of tests, I think to reassure me more than anything. I like having blood in my eye, but I guess that's been enough drama for now. On with life.
I had a real date with Bob tonight-- dinner and a movie (Dirty Dancing, which I'd never watched before. I am in such dance withdrawal from missing karaoke last night. There *will be* dancing at my birthday party, even if all the dance-y people are away at Shambhala). It was super-awesome. It's so important to leave the house, leave the domestic stuff and the cleaning and the habits, and to spend time just sitting, to talk. Not to Talk, just to chat, to go back and forth about how sound works in different venues, which guitar Bob wants to buy next, how awesome my friends are, who gets my baby rats, and how I feel about the recent breakup. It reminds me of the dates Kynnin and I used to have, in Abbotsford, walking down the hill to Ethical Addictions for coffee or a meal by the fire. You know, just out of the house? He also got me to the doctor. I hate doctors.
This is settling into such a comfortable familiarity. We still feel like a good match to me, especially now that I've come down out of the tree I was in earlier this week. I am so glad. I always have the urge to do the scorched earth thing when I'm stressed or unhappy, because it simplifies interpersonal issues so much if you just remove the people, but of course that's just the crazy talking.
I hadn't realised how long it's been since I just relaxed and responded in kind to bits of fun from him. I'm not back there yet, but I will be soon.
I also keep thinking about Angus-- of course. New toy, dimples like the sun coming up, smells like carrots and geraniums. I love the way he's so colourfully and interestingly decorated all over (yes, those are all different links). People are definitely my vice.
To use another terrible metaphor (because what use is a metaphor if neither the writer nor the reader has actually done the thing?) the people in my life are sometimes like a rosary, little fragments of thought or memory polished from handling and slipped one by one through my mind when I need focus, and calm. I cherish these memories so much: Bob standing unsteady-drunk in the door at Sin City when we met, or looking so worried when I was upset the next morning; the morning light spilling in through the tiny octagonal windows in the livingroom on Juggler and I after we'd lain awake all night talking, with Mouse and Kynnin in the bedroom and us on the futon mattress on the floor; CrazyChris' voice, no specific words but that so-emphatic, confident debating tone he uses; Tillie kneeling in front of the fireplace in Burnaby, stacking things inside or the first time I met her at a Christmas party, perched on the edge of a couch wearing a red skirt; Angus years ago on the 20 bus at night, dimples radiant; Avi sitting on the sofa looking determined and worried and older than I've seen him look; Eva slipping down a sidepath towards a bench surrounded by ducks; Trevor on the schoolbus, so long ago, his spikes sticking up past the brown vinyl every morning as I walked down the aisle; my cousin Joe sucking on the edge of his water glass more than a decade ago... it goes on, and on, and on. There are so many precious moments, tiny gestures, and little shared bridges of time that I joy in remembering.
And now I am tired. Goodnight.
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Date: 2007-08-10 08:04 pm (UTC):P