(no subject)
Last night I fell asleep, despite some tossing and turning and turbulent thoughts, with the general feeling that everything will work out in the end, and that there is no need to worry. And it was that sort of slow, sinking in feeling, like descending into that impossibly perfect, primordial warmth, which is the way I like to fall asleep. It happens very rarely. I think probably the melatonin helped, since all I cared about at that moment was the descent.
Unfortunately, the morning was a different matter. Same as most mornings, really. That slamming, steel unclasping feeling. Except I stayed feeling heavy. One of those skimming-on-the-surface-of-life existential pockets, I suppose, where all of a sudden there is a stretching plain in front of you and
you have a cold suffocating notion that there is nothing but that plain, nothing but the long heave and stumble across it. The happy feeling, of course, was merely a way of allowing myself to sleep, a letting go. Things are a little gray.
...
I found a few treasures at work today. One was a little book made of staples and notebook paper, drawn in with colored pencils. It was entitled, in colorful letters, "Why I My Family," which, if you looked inside, was revealed to have an omission; it was obviously supposed to be "Why I Love My Family." It was drawn with the hand of a little girl. We returned the book to her mother, who shares, or at least shared up till now, an office with my aunt. The little girl is apparently at least fourteen now. She is an intern at Startec too, from what I can gather, and I've seen her around, working in the supply room and such. Another treasure was probably less beautiful, but interesting nonetheless. It's a planner, or "desk diary", for Oxford College, the school year of 1998-99. Its in beautiful condition, with gold-edged pages, and nice, sort of tan paper, with pretty pictures, especially the blue fly sheets, and fancy fonts, for the dates, quotes, and definitions, as well as a pretty cool map of Oxford itself toward the front. Obviously, it's pretty darn near useless, but its a beautiful thing, and I couldn't bring myself to throw it away any more than I could the girl's drawings. I will keep it.
There were also some heavy metal plates that I might take and try to fashion a makeshift book press with, but those are by far less exciting...
For some reason, writing of this has made me feel lighter for a moment. I am sometimes just a big knot of slippery mess and ache. Its angular. It, also, pertains to nothing. My nerves have been acting up lately. I have been doing well up to now, however, and I intend to do my utmost to continue in this vein. I must find some patience. I am going to try and color this gray in some other colors, though there are certainly some things which are beyond my control.
So yeah, well, there is only about two hours left in the evening. That vast, time-filled feeling, the hollow plain feeling, the doubting feeling and the speed with which everything never stays still, it makes me want to just hug everyone, no matter how bad I am at hugging, to hold on somehow. I know this racing feeling from before. It will be ok, after all. "We know time, we know time."
******************************************
Oh, and I almost forgot, my comics website is at:
http://www.freewebs.com/motleycomics
as I've posted previously. I am posting it again because I've actually got it mostly up and running. There are two sections so far; the comic about the cowboy and the other ones which are just random, experimental tidbits. The former has two pages to it, and the latter so far has five,(I just recently added a new one, and will be updating hopefully on a weekly or almost weekly basis.) A third cowboy one should be coming up soon, and I will finish up the links, so that they all go somewhere different. In a little bit, when its halfway decent, I will try promoting it and getting a wider readership. For now, its just for you, my friends.
Unfortunately, the morning was a different matter. Same as most mornings, really. That slamming, steel unclasping feeling. Except I stayed feeling heavy. One of those skimming-on-the-surface-of-life existential pockets, I suppose, where all of a sudden there is a stretching plain in front of you and
you have a cold suffocating notion that there is nothing but that plain, nothing but the long heave and stumble across it. The happy feeling, of course, was merely a way of allowing myself to sleep, a letting go. Things are a little gray.
...
I found a few treasures at work today. One was a little book made of staples and notebook paper, drawn in with colored pencils. It was entitled, in colorful letters, "Why I My Family," which, if you looked inside, was revealed to have an omission; it was obviously supposed to be "Why I Love My Family." It was drawn with the hand of a little girl. We returned the book to her mother, who shares, or at least shared up till now, an office with my aunt. The little girl is apparently at least fourteen now. She is an intern at Startec too, from what I can gather, and I've seen her around, working in the supply room and such. Another treasure was probably less beautiful, but interesting nonetheless. It's a planner, or "desk diary", for Oxford College, the school year of 1998-99. Its in beautiful condition, with gold-edged pages, and nice, sort of tan paper, with pretty pictures, especially the blue fly sheets, and fancy fonts, for the dates, quotes, and definitions, as well as a pretty cool map of Oxford itself toward the front. Obviously, it's pretty darn near useless, but its a beautiful thing, and I couldn't bring myself to throw it away any more than I could the girl's drawings. I will keep it.
There were also some heavy metal plates that I might take and try to fashion a makeshift book press with, but those are by far less exciting...
For some reason, writing of this has made me feel lighter for a moment. I am sometimes just a big knot of slippery mess and ache. Its angular. It, also, pertains to nothing. My nerves have been acting up lately. I have been doing well up to now, however, and I intend to do my utmost to continue in this vein. I must find some patience. I am going to try and color this gray in some other colors, though there are certainly some things which are beyond my control.
So yeah, well, there is only about two hours left in the evening. That vast, time-filled feeling, the hollow plain feeling, the doubting feeling and the speed with which everything never stays still, it makes me want to just hug everyone, no matter how bad I am at hugging, to hold on somehow. I know this racing feeling from before. It will be ok, after all. "We know time, we know time."
******************************************
Oh, and I almost forgot, my comics website is at:
http://www.freewebs.com/motleycomics
as I've posted previously. I am posting it again because I've actually got it mostly up and running. There are two sections so far; the comic about the cowboy and the other ones which are just random, experimental tidbits. The former has two pages to it, and the latter so far has five,(I just recently added a new one, and will be updating hopefully on a weekly or almost weekly basis.) A third cowboy one should be coming up soon, and I will finish up the links, so that they all go somewhere different. In a little bit, when its halfway decent, I will try promoting it and getting a wider readership. For now, its just for you, my friends.