Take Two: Leaving the Metaphors
Nov. 12th, 2007 10:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormI went away from home and came back thirty-six hours later and ten pounds lighter - I checked before and after, oddly. There was a wind blowing last night and I wrestled with my bed until it was sleepable and then climbed in for the first time. There's history in this bed - it was the bed that Kynnin and I bought, first thing, when we moved in together. It was his and Mouse's for a time, and now it's mine again and last night was my first time on it (although I suppose in reality there were many nights on it before, and many of those also alone).
My rats had missed me, to their credit. It's still impossible for a person to match my rats for sheer friendly-lovingness-- even after I abandon them in a strange place for a month, or disappear for a day and two nights, they are still happy to see me. There's a lesson in there somewhere about love and trust though I may be too tired to wrap myself around it right now.
I had a long walk last night in the wind between three and five in the morning. I stopped for pho and watched drunk teenagers help each other to the bathroom to puke; I walked and watched leaves skitter along at my pace with a dry screeching sound.
I was more-or-less in bed for two days this weekend though now I'm out and done with that. My life had become routine and the routine had become habit and the habit had become a straightjacket (o, metaphor, how you pervade my very essence!). It's funny how you expect that the same thing that made you happy last year - or last week - should still make you happy this morning. True of rats and tea, it's not an expectation to base a whole life around.
And what should you base your life around? Well. Isn't that just the question now? I've always held the art of being happy in high esteem. Somewhere along the way I forsook honesty in pursuit of an attempt at gentleness which seems to have been a mistake to do wholesale. I'm particularly graceless at gentleness anyways. It seems like joy may be worth following; the other side of that coin is stability and steadiness and that doesn't seem to get along with me anyhow. What is your basic motivation? What drives you?
My rats had missed me, to their credit. It's still impossible for a person to match my rats for sheer friendly-lovingness-- even after I abandon them in a strange place for a month, or disappear for a day and two nights, they are still happy to see me. There's a lesson in there somewhere about love and trust though I may be too tired to wrap myself around it right now.
I had a long walk last night in the wind between three and five in the morning. I stopped for pho and watched drunk teenagers help each other to the bathroom to puke; I walked and watched leaves skitter along at my pace with a dry screeching sound.
I was more-or-less in bed for two days this weekend though now I'm out and done with that. My life had become routine and the routine had become habit and the habit had become a straightjacket (o, metaphor, how you pervade my very essence!). It's funny how you expect that the same thing that made you happy last year - or last week - should still make you happy this morning. True of rats and tea, it's not an expectation to base a whole life around.
And what should you base your life around? Well. Isn't that just the question now? I've always held the art of being happy in high esteem. Somewhere along the way I forsook honesty in pursuit of an attempt at gentleness which seems to have been a mistake to do wholesale. I'm particularly graceless at gentleness anyways. It seems like joy may be worth following; the other side of that coin is stability and steadiness and that doesn't seem to get along with me anyhow. What is your basic motivation? What drives you?
